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#also I don’t remember if this was supposed to have more to it cus I only had the lineart in the file so idk

son-of-a-top-gun · 4 months

Text

Sky's The Limit Part 3

we're back baby and things are getting spicy (ish)

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of strippers/lapdancing, two horny people who desperately need to get off, shameless flirting, Bradley being a babe as usual, continuation of the bob fucks agenda

Sky's The Limit Part 3

Bradley could tell you were starting to get a little down. As one of the only people who actually knew about the book, he was also one of the only people you can tell about how it was really going. You had been giving hints that it was not going well, but after he catches you lying face down in one of the Hard Deck boothes, he decides that’s enough. It was time for you to have a bit of fun, even just for one night.

“Bradley, it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“I know.” He keeps staring ahead, hands still on the wheel. He had offered to give you a lift to his house, where you were supposed to be having a few ‘casual drinks’. You took one look of the bag of balloons and had known exactly what that meant.

“You don’t have to throw me a stupid party.”

“But this isn’t just any party, baby girl. This is a Bradshaw party, which only get offered to the creme de la creme. Besides, you haven’t even been given a proper welcome to San Diego. There’s no way you can stay here one more day without an official welcome.”

You smile at him. Bradley truly was one of the best friends a girl could wish for. Losing his parents only meant he loved people harder and you loved that about him. You couldn’t have imagined anyone more perfect for your sister, you just wanted them to hurry up and realise they were in love with each other so he could legally become part of the family.

“Ugh fine, But you best make -

“Those biscuits you like. Honestly what do you take me for Ladybug? I’ve already got the ingredients in the back.”

You turn around. Of course he did.

******

Of course the party is perfect. Bradley had cued all your favourite songs, supplied all your favourite snacks (as well as some supposed San Diego delicacies) and invited all your new pilot friends, who you had really become quite fond of. They’d all been extra nice to you lately, which made you wonder what sort of desperate vibes you were giving off. Even Jake had been less annoying the last week, perhaps sensing your stress, making less sassy comments, leaving you well alone when you were trying to write and even occasionally letting you rant about the inaccessibility of online archives. The most surprising thing was that your favourite coffee had been turning up at the Hard Deck every morning before you arrived with a little ladybug drawn on it, along with anonymous notes that had literary motivational quotes on it. You had initially attributed it to Bradley, but he denied it and no one else at the party would fess up either.

The party is in full swing, and you are a couple of drinks in, starting to feel relaxed for the first time in weeks. You were listening to Phoenix tell everyone about her new girlfriend, which was nauseatingly adorable. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like that about someone. The last guy you went on a date with tried to give you his manuscript to read over the minute you said you were a writer, and after that you swore off casual dating. Which was lucky, because it seemed all the men here were Navy men, which you had sworn off a long time ago.

Without thinking, you find yourself scanning the room.

Everyone is here, except one particular blonde pilot. You don’t know why you are looking for him. It was just wherever the pilots were, so was he. You had to admit, It was sort of odd for him not to be there. You find yourself wondering if he finally got that hot date he seemed to be begging for. From what the other pilots told you, Jake had always been a massive flirt and had been known to get around most of the women of San Diego. You hated that you were thinking about this so much and took another hefty swig of your drink.

“Hope you didn’t miss me, darlin’.” A familiar voice leans into your ear.

You almost leap out of your skin. “Jesus Christ, Bagman you can’t sneak up on people like that! You nearly scared the pants off me.” He looks down on you with that annoying smile of his and you suddenly feel very cold in your little strappy vest top.

He leans down. “Trust me, don’t need to scare you to get you out of your pants sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes at him and are about to come back with a witty retort when you see out of the corner of your eye Bradley brandishing an empty bottle. He claps his hands and everyone turns around.

“I think it’s time for a game guys.”

“Really Bradley?” You raise an eyebrow. “Spin the bottle?”

“What, are you scared?” Jake immediately chimes in. You shoot him daggers.

“Only of having to touch you.” You smile sweetly at him as he mimes an arrow going through his chest.

“Can it lovebirds!” Bradley announces, rubbing his hands with glee, “We’re not so basic to play Spin the bottle.” Bradley looks at you and grins. You know this means trouble. “It’s time to play Truth or Dare!”

There is a chorus of cheers across the room.

“Bradley, you are in your thirties.” You tut under your breath, but he ignores it.

He spins the bottle first. It lands on Fanboy first, who chooses truth.

“Which superhero would you bang?” Bradley asks

“It’s got to be Catwoman right?” Jake is indignant.

Fanboy takes a moment to really think it through, “I dunno, I like to think about what Wonder Woman could do. The lasso could come in handy. What about you guys?”

“I like Batgirl.” Bob offers.

Coyote suggests “Mystique, you know, for roleplaying. It’s basically like having infinite wishes. Also love me a bad girl.” Payback sagely nods.

“How much have you guys all been thinking about this?” You turn to Natasha, who shrugs.

“Jean Grey does it for me.” This made sense, having seen the pictures of her new ginger girlfriend.

They spin the bottle again, this time landing on Bob. He says Truth and you can see Jake already brewing the question, so you jump in.

“How many hookups have you had in the last year?”

“That’s not fair, I was going to ask!”

“Quit your whining.” You turn to Bob, whose cheeks have tinged pink. “Go on.”

“Oh, er, I don’t know, maybe” He starts counting in his head. “Twenty, twenty-five” He looks up. “Are we counting repeat incidents?”

“As in you had sex with them more than once?”

“Uh, yes, I guess.”

“Sure.”

“Because that would bring it up to sixty, seventy- “ You watch as everyone’s jaws go slack.

“Are you joking?” Jake is stunned. Bradley turns his head. “How?”

“I don’t know, I just like helping people, and I tend to run into women who need help with their coffee, or taking things to their car, or need something tall fixing around the house…” As Bob rambles, it’s cute to see how unaware he is. You lock eyes with Jake, raising your eyebrows to say I told you. Bob fucks.

Third time around, the bottle lands on you.

“Truth.”

“Oh come on, not everyone can say truth or we are all going to die of boredom.” Jake folds his arms.

“Firstly, I don’t think Bob’s truth was boring at all. In fact I found it very interesting.” You say, throwing a wink to Bob. “But fine, have it your way. Dare.”

This time, Reuben, who has been very quiet, pops up.

“You have to give Jake a lapdance.”

“What the hell Javy? I thought we were friends.” He shrugs.

“Just for one minute.

“No way.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Jake sits back.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean Bagman?” There is a chorus of oos from around the room.

“Nothing, it means nothing!”

“I get it that I’m not your usual type Seresin, but you think you wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“No, just… I mean you seem like the sort who would hate strip clubs.”

You go to speak but bite your tongue.

What Jake didn’t know was that for your last book you had a whole plot involving strippers which meant you spent several days with dancers researching their life. One of them, Brandy, became one of your best friends in New York and had given you many a lesson in lapdancing (to make your writing accurate, of course). But you figured this was a fact best left unsaid. Besides, this was a rare chance to get Jake to eat some humble pie.

“Yeah…But a dare is a dare. Javy…put on Pony.”

You were grateful that the hot weather had meant you had put on a vest and a fairly cute pair of daisy dukes. If you had been wearing a dress there was no way this would be happening. You make a show of stretching while they set the room up, Jake sat on a chair on the middle. You wink at him as you bend over and you see him flush just a little.

Javy gives the signal for the music. You are kneeling on the floor in front of Jake,.

“Hope you’re ready to have your world rocked Bagman. Bradley, look away.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bradley, seeing you as his honorary younger sister, did what he was told. “You took a deep breath and then a large swig of whisky.

You sat on your knees and let your hair down, slowing rolling your neck as the music starts to play. You try to ignore the hand shaking and slowly look up towards Jake. You expected him to be smug but he’s looking at you with such a look of confusion and pity that you suddenly realise. He genuinely doesn’t think you can do it. You are suddenly filled with a devilish combination of spite and rage and power. You close your eyes, slowly rolling your body and feeling all the way up yourself, grinding up on some imaginary guy until you flash your eyes open and send him one cautionary wink before slowly licking your fingers.

You crawl towards Jake and push his knees apart, slowly rising up between them. It’s a good thing he’s wearing shorts right now, his thighs exposed, so you can feel how his skin burns under yours. The look of pity has turned into something else, both fear and astonishment and something darker, but you have no time for this. Your nails dig slightly into his flesh as you rise up slowly between his legs until you are eye to eye. You slowly wrap your legs to the outside of his thighs and slowly start grinding down on his crotch until.

Oh.

At least Jake’s arrogance was starting to make sense if all of what you were feeling was true. With this realisation you look up and lock eyes. Jake’s look burns through you like he could devour you whole and you feel him grip onto your thigh, just a little squeeze, and then you suddenly have a terrible physical urge between your legs, when the music suddenly stops.

“That’s one minute!” Reuben calls out. For a moment, neither of the two of you move.

“Guys? You can get off each other you know?” Phoenix interjects. You both leap away from each other. “Although I should say that was phenomenal.” You croak out a thanks before heading to the kitchen.

What the hell was that? You wonder as you pour yourself a glass of water. I guess it really had been a while. Your heart is racing and you steady yourself against the counter, closing your eyes.

“What the hell are they teaching you on that pHD of yours?” Your eyes open to see Jake standing in the door with his arm leaning against the frame. He must know how his arm looks when he does that. You hate how much you like it.

You take a moment and reassume your confidence, laughing a little. “Oh that? Just a little something I picked up back in New York.”

He walks towards you until he’s right next to you on the counter before leaning in. You can feel his hot breath in your ear. “I knew there was something fishy about this pHD stuff. And now I know.” Your breath hitches. Surely there was no way he could have figured it out, could he? Your lapdance scene wasn’t that similar in the book. He looks away from you. “I thought you reminded me of someone and now I know it’s JLo in Hustlers.” He looks over you with a slightly more sincere look. “So are you..you know?” He waves his hand. You can’t believe that out of all the things, the subject of strippers would make Jake Seresin awkward.

“And what if I was?”

But much to your surprise, Jake shrugs. “Everyone has to pay their bills somehow.” He turns back towards you. “It’s just if you’re not, I think you should seriously consider it. I think you would earn a lot of money.”

“Would you come to my club then?” The alcohol is making you overconfident, so you gently stroke your index finger down his chest.

“Baby.” He now leans his arm on the kitchen cabinet behind you. His face is so close, just above you. You could smell his cologne again and you find yourself wishing you could lick it off his neck. “I would be there every damn day.” You felt a flutter in your stomach. This was dangerous territory, but it was too late. What would it be like to kiss Jake Seresin, you wondered, leaning forward just a little -

“There you are Ladybug!” Bradley’s voice booms and the two of you pull apart once again. “Hangman, I hope you’re not trying to get seconds.”

The two of you return to the party. You don’t see Hangman for the rest of the party except once where you catch eyes across you the room. You smile at him and he smiles back, before you are pulled back into conversation. When you go to find him again, he is gone. Weird that he left without saying goodbye.

When you finally get home and get to bed, you find yourself instinctively reaching your hand between your legs when it happens. Who flashes into your head but a certain blond, handsome and potentially well-hung pilot.

You were fucked.

---

hope you all enjoyed! Let me know if you want to be tagged in part four!

Tagged:

@dizzybee03 @mrsroosterbradshaw @tgmreader @dgs8891 @alldaysdreamer @eloquentdreamer @ravenwtfbro @dempy @milkbummm @memoriesat30 @yourfavouritecitizen @burningwitchprincess @il0vebeingdelulu

#jake seresin x y/n #romance #fanfic #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #top gun maverick #bob fucks #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd

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luaspersona · 11 months

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Seoul Town Road | kth (m)

pairing ↠ horseback riding instructor!taehyung x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; idiots to lovers; light fluff; pwp; crack. summary ↠ having a sore ass on a Saturday after spending a day riding with Taehyung is nothing like you anticipated. rating ↠ +18 | minors DO NOT interact warnings ↠ tae was supposed to be a himbo, but reader is the stupid one; ig this doesn’t qualify 100% as reader insert, the reader is very black coded, but it’s still vague enough; jimin’s a lil shit; reader likes keke palmer (‘cus of good taste ofc 💅🏽); reader is in denial; bickering; crying, but not the way you think; i make one joke about being in the closet so there’s that; taehyung’s hands 😩; there’s an innocent massage that turns sexual; explicit smut: super soft dom!taehyung, a LOT of praise kink, teasing (i can’t help myself), begging (borderline desperation), light dirty talk, body worship, tit play, fingering, unprotected sex, slow sex and that’s a WARNING, brief oral sex (m. receiving), cum eating. word count ↠ 8.5k note ↠ hey, y’all 🤠 i’ll casually pretend this didn’t take forever for me to finish and that i haven’t vanished on the meantime, so let’s not talk about it *clears throat* ok, so… it all started with this video, then i saw this, and here we are. also, pls ignore the corny ass title, it was provisional until i couldn’t come up with anything better, then it suddenly wasn’t. note² ↠ always need to thank @uarmymoonlight for being the most precious being ever and helping me outline and organize my thots on this one, ily 🤟🏽 note³ ↠ also, thank you @badgalsgetinfree again for making me this beautiful! banner 🥺 you’re really talented and i appreciate you! and thank you @eoieopda and @namjinsmoonchile for beta reading this and taking their time to make sure this wasn't complete shit lol

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

It seemed like a really good idea at first. And, granted, it was almost fun: Taehyung’s firm grip on your hips and that large palm warming your thigh was definitely something, but goddamnit if your butt isn’t sore as fuck.

Now, here you lay, ridiculous groans muffled by the soft fabric of your comforter as you try to balance a hot water bag over your hurt ass. And the worst part? He seemed so unimpressed. Meeting your eyes with nothing but amusement at your pathetic riding attempt.

That settles it. You’re never horseback riding again.

“For the record, I think you’re being pathetic about this,”Jimin says.

“Shit, I think the pain must be affecting my memory too, ‘cus I don’t remember asking you a damn thing, man.”

He rolls his eyes, reclining on the chair.

“I don’t need your permission to tell you that you’re being stupid.”

“Well, then I choose to ignore you.”

He huffs. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“Then give up already.”

“Girl, just look at you. You have a water bag on your ass and you haven’t even fucked the guy.”

“You know what, maybe I just like the warmth.”

“Stop being stubborn. I bet Taehyung would be more than down to fuck you.”

You groan, burying your face in your comforter. “It’s not that simple.”

“Except it is.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You’ve fucked everyone you’ve met, what’s so different about him?”

“Are you slutshaming me?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“I’m shy-shaming you for not fucking the guy you’ve been pining over for the last six months. Quite the opposite.”

“I’m not pining. I do not pine.”

“Right, ‘cus you always wanted to learn how to ride a fucking horse.” He rolls his eyes.

…

Yeah, you don’t really have an answer to that.

To be honest? You didn’t even know horseback riding instructor was a real job. Much less that there is a stud farm near campus that offers part-time slots for college students that are too broke to care about employment rights. But then, Taehyung used his first paycheck to gift Yoongi an overpriced craft whiskey for his birthday and buy Jimin an original Celine sneaker for their “wonderful six months of friendship” — being a perfectly good example of why, even employed, college students stay broke.

Add that piece of knowledge to an ungodly amount of alcohol and you wake up to months of avoiding major embarrassments shattered by a “hoe much 4 u 2 teacj mr how 2 ridw?” text. And sure, you could’ve just dismissed it, said you were drunk or whatnot — but you were completely sober when you confirmed the date. The messages you exchanged after were pretty tame. He told you he could give you a free first lesson (“you’re a friend!”), explained to you how it worked, arranged some riding clothes for you and asked if Saturday was a good day. It wasn’t. But fuck it, you made it work.

It’s not like you and Taehyung never hung out. As far as he was concerned, you were friends. You drink together, you tease him, he sometimes teases you back, but never just the two of you. Never after you accidentally called out his name in bed two months ago — resulting in a pretty pissed and unremarkable hookup and a new feeling to shove to the dark corners of your mind until it finally disappeared.

Except it never did. And then, before you knew it, you were taking forty minutes to choose what underwear to use at a goddamn stud farm (you went with lace, by the way — you never know).

The class itself was terrible. Taehyung had to prioritize the hundreds of kids with cowboy hats whose parents had actually paid to be there, so it took around two hours for him to finally remember you were there too. He then introduced you to a pretty horse, told you her name was Princess and you allowed yourself to pretend that every call of her name was aimed at you.

“Listen,” Jimin’s voice pierces through your thoughts. “I’ll give you some tough love now, so pay attention and just stop being nasty with me. I’m on your side here.”

“... Okay?”

“You’re my best friend, and I know you have that weird ‘the shittier the better’ philosophy going on, and I can’t change that. But if you’re not doing anything about your crush, then stop acting weird around him, ‘cus I’m sure he’s noticing. Just… I don’t know, put your big girl pants on, accept that you’re into the guy and move the fuck on.”

“I’m not in—” your rebuttal dies in your tongue at the glare Jimin directs at you. You scoff. “Whatever.”

“Have you talked since yesterday?”

“No.”

You're lying, of course. Earlier that morning you got a little consolation prize.

[08:48am] taehyung 🥵🐎: yesterday was nice! it's been a while since i taught an actual adult lol

[08:50am] taehyung 🥵🐎: how was is for you?

[09:11am] you: it was nice

[09:32am] you: i’m sore af now, tho 💀

Hours later and your text stood unanswered — making the twenty minutes you spent overthinking it even more pathetic.

Jimin narrows his gaze.

“You didn’t say anything stupid, right?”

Well.

“Depends on your definition of stupid.”

“Something like saying he smells really good for a vet major.”

You groan. “I said that once, and it was meant as a compliment.”

He offers you a pointed look. Eyebrows raising just slightly as if to say “I rest my case”, before a notification lights up his phone.

“How’s your butt?”

You welcome the change in subject.

“Better.”

“Good. I have to go now.” A small smile tugs on his lips. “Have a date.”

“Ohhh” you smirk teasingly, “on your way to win someone’s heart?”

“You bet.”

“Nice. Have fun, Chim.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you later.” He gathers his things and places a kiss on the top of your head. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. Love you too.”

“Great.” He steps out of your dorm, glancing at you one last time and saying “stop being stupid”, before leaving your room.

Jimin clearly overestimates you.

The next hour is spent with occasional reheatings of the bag and apprehensive checks of your phone — and it doesn’t take long until Jimin’s words spark a frustration deep inside you.

You know what? You’re not into Taehyung. No. Absolutely not. No way.

You pride yourself on being on control of shit like this, with a terrible and meticulous track record of only fucking people you pick up from trash — bonus points if they treat you like shit afterwards to ruin any sparkling possibility of feelings.

Actually, coming to think of it, it’s probably just his kindness that gets you confused.

…

Of course, it could also be his eyes.

Or his deep voice.

Shit, but there’s also that boxy smile, tho…

Ugh.

Fuck Jimin and his preposterously hot friend. And fuck whoever is knocking on your door at such a vulnerable time.

You groan into your pillow, deciding in no time not to answer it; the bag on your butt too warm to give up for that weird ass finance major from the first floor that’s still trying to get you to invest in his crypto currency or whatever the hell that powerpoint meant. Besides, you look like shit, and you ain’t gonna let—

Your thoughts are interrupted by your ringtone. Normally, you’d patiently wait for whoever’s calling to give up and text you instead, like a decent fucking person, but when you grab your phone and Taehyung’s name flashes on the screen a surge of panic runs through your body. Before you can even process what you’re doing, your fingers move to decline the call.

You drop your phone on the bed. Staring it down for a full minute before impulsively reaching for it and hitting the call button under Taehyung’s contact.

He picks up after the first ring.

“Did you just hang up on me?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Damn. Cold.”

“Why are you calling?”

“Wanted to ask you something real quick. You live in Bang Si-hyuk Hall, right?”

“You could’ve just texted me for that.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Second floor, dorm thirteen right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Right. Are you home?”

“Yeah?”

“Great! Can you open your door?”

“Huh?” God, you’re so eloquent.

“I’m here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Pretty sure I am. Here, let me just—” another knock hits your door, “hear that? That’s me.”

You gasp, immediately jumping off the bed and fighting to stifle the subsequent groan at the way your bottoms sting with the abrupt movement.

“Shit–I, uhm, wait a sec.” You say, before ending the call.

Your face is all puffy from being pressed on the pillow the whole day and you’re still wearing your pajamas. You control the urge to cry at the prospect of Taehyung seeing you like this, seeking some sort of consolation as you run your fingers over your eyebrows, in a feeble attempt to make something look presentable.

You cross the space to your door, quickly scrunching your hair before opening it.

“Hey,” he smiles. When the universe created Kim Taehyung, there was no mercy, because how on Earth can a man look this fucking good? And as his deep eyes fix on your chest, you can feel your brain trying to come up with its own syntax. “Where the hell did you get this from?”

You follow his gaze, landing on your less than flattering cropped pajama top that says “some people ride the crazy train, I drive that bitch”. You grimace.

“Why? Not to your taste?”

“You know what? You’re almost pulling it off.”

“Almost? This is my best look.” You sure hope not. “Besides, I feel like it encapsulates my crazy bitch personality.”

“Sure.” He chuckles, and his attention is on your face again. “So, I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I saw your message when I left work and I… well,” he reaches behind him, fumbling on his backpack before he reveals a small pharmacy bag “thought I could be of help.”

Your stomach flips. A perfectly normal reaction to a friend buying medicine and coming all the way to another friend’s place after seeing they were in pain.

“I just felt bad, I guess.” He continues when you just keep staring at his face — that beautiful, sculpted face of his. “I forget how painful it is to ride for the first time and I didn’t give you proper aftercare instructions.” Did those words actually leave his mouth? “Can I come in?”

Admittedly, there were some horny nights with some thirsty thoughts — but in none of your fantasies your hair had this much frizz when you let him in your place alone for the first time, so you immediately shake your head.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to. You’re probably tired from work and all.”

“No, really, it’s no heat. I know how bad the pain is. I used to be sore as fuck all the time, so I learned just how to deal with it.”

…

You mean… he did come all this way to provide some assistance, and you’re not rude — not all the time at least. So you step aside to give him room to enter, closing the door once he does.

Taehyung’s eyes roam around your room, and after some seconds of quiet inspection, he regards you with a frown. “Thought you had a Keke Palmer poster.”

You mimic his confusion.

“What?”

“Pretty sure you said you had one when we watched Nope.”

You take a few seconds to understand what he’s talking about, but eventually Hobi’s ridiculous attempt at making movie nights a thing a couple of months ago returns to you.

“Damn, you remember that? Obsessed much?” You tease, prompting Taehyung to roll his eyes.

You’re grinning when you step in front of your closet, slowly bending to grab the large Keke Palmer Glamour cover that you printed out months ago.

“Oh. You keep it in the closet?”

“It builds character.” You turn to show it to him. “Also if I so much as stain the wall, I have to pay a fee.” You pout. “But I only found out after spending a shit ton of money to get this laminated and framed, so.”

“I can hang stuff in my apartment.” He shrugs.

“Congratulations. Wanna tell me how nice it is to have an individual bathroom too?”

“No, I’m just sayin’... you could hang it there.”

“What, you like Keke Palmer now? You haven’t even watched True Jackson.” If this man had a flaw, that was definitely it.

“I mean, we could watch together. We never do anything just the two of us.”

Yeah, well, no shit.

“That’s ‘cus you annoy the hell out of me.” Which isn’t 100% wrong. “Besides, we just rode horses together, my sore ass is definitely a testament to that.” You turn to place the poster back. “Which reminds me. What about the drugs you were going to give me?”

“Here,” he reaches for the pharmacy bag again, pulling out a pain relief plaster from it, “this is the best one I’ve found, and it doesn’t have any major side effects or anything...” he pauses. “You aren’t pregnant and shit, right?”

“And shit?”

“Like… suspecting?”

“Not really.”

“Then we should be safe.”

“Damn. You ain’t sure?” You laugh anxiously.

“... ‘Course I am.”

“You hesitated.”

“I used this before, and I’m fine.”

“You can’t really get pregnant, though, can you?”

“Thought you said you’re not pregnant.” He narrows his eyes.

“That’s not the point.”

He grimaces.“People from work use it. And some of them can get pregnant, so… you’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at all.”

“Great, then.” He smiles and you can’t help smiling back. “Where’s hurting?”

“Basically my back and legs… also my butt, but I ain’t sticking patches there.”

He nods. “Seems fair.”

Taehyung’s attention shifts to your bed.

“Mind laying down for me?”

You swallow the urge to vomit.

“Sorry?”

“It’s easier if I apply them for you. If you place them wrong they won’t work properly. Besides, it’s probably better if we don’t use a lot, for…” he darts his eyes away, “safety concerns, in case you ever want to pop some kids out.”

Yeah.

It makes sense, right?

“Okay.” You narrow your eyes. “But no funny business, mister.” You say, like a fool.

He raises his palms in surrender, before helping you climb the bed carefully. You shift a bit, pulling the hem of your shorts lower over your ass as you lay on your stomach.

“Show me where it hurts.” He fishes for a patch inside the package.

You extend your hand to hover over your lower back and then point generally to your thighs.

“No, show me where it hurts the most. I can’t put these everywhere.”

“There’s not a single place, Taehyung.” You scoff. “I barely got up from bed this morning.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll never horseback ride again— by the way, why it’s horseback riding? Where else would I ride?” You shake your head.

“Fuck if I know. Also, the pain is just because you’ve never done it before. The more you ride, the more accustomed you get. Like… like sex!”

Yeah, you’re not having this conversation with him.

“Just put the damn patches, man.”

“Wait, let me think.”

“God, this will take some time.”

“Shut up.” He goes quiet for a moment, and you turn to find him looking at your bottom with his hand on his chin. Not flattering, really. “Let me give you a massage.”

You can only hope that he can’t see the way you shiver as the words leave his mouth.

You laugh.

What.

“What?” You voice, twisting to look at him.

“It’ll help to relieve the pain, then we can see the best spot to place the patches.”

“You just wanna touch my butt,” you can only hope you don’t sound as desperate as you feel.

He chuckles.

“You wish.” Fuck, you kinda do. “But I’m serious, it’ll be good to soothe it. Also, my messages are pretty good.”

You won’t do this.

You shouldn’t do this.

…

No, really, you shouldn’t do this.

But then again… you and Jimin have given each other a bunch of massages before. Even Namjoon had given you some proper kneading before, and it was no big deal. This is just a friend helping out another friend who happens to be in pain.

…

Yeah, maybe Jimin’s right. Maybe you are stupid, and maybe you do stupid things when it comes to Taehyung.

“Whatever.” You return to your previous position, resting your cheek on your palms on the bed. “You better be good at this.”

“I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll want nothing more.” He taunts, and you’re afraid he might be too right on that one.

You and Taehyung have touched before. He’s a cuddler, so occasionally you fall victim to his hugs. He’s also been beside you in the backseat of Yoongi’s car one too many times, pressed together as you try to make room for Jimin’s thick ass. There was also that time you fell on top of him when you all went to a water park and he stood at the bottom of the slide — like a dumbass —, but even then it was mostly your foot on his face.

So now, as his large palms find the bare skin of your waist, exposed by your cropped top, it’s like the first time you’ve ever been touched.

But the feeling is short-lived, as Taehyung immediately pulls his hands away.

“Are my hands cold?”

“No?”

“You got goosebumps.”

“Oh.” You chuckle awkwardly. “It was kinda sudden.”

“Sorry.” He pauses. “I’m going in, then.”

You sigh when the weight of his palms returns to your waist, and Taehyung chooses to ignore the way your body still shivers while his feather-light touch travels over your lower back.

“You comfortable?”

“Yes.”

He hums and you close your eyes.

He gradually starts to add more pressure, digging into your skin and eliciting a quiet grunt out of your lips when he kneads on a particularly sore area.

“Sorry” he stops briefly, “this will probably hurt some, but let me know if it gets too much.”

Months of one sided sexual attraction are enough to make his five minute touch already too much. And you know this ain’t looking good. Not with the way your body receives this as if it’s some kind of tantric experience. You can already feel heat spreading under your skin while his hands get familiar with your back, and you’re definitely way more tense then you should be — but you do your best to force your mind out of the gutter and try to enjoy this friendly massage.

And to be honest, he’s actually really good at this.

His hands work in a disarming rhythm. Hard pressure unwinding your sore spots, only to return with soft and delicate caresses whenever your pain announces itself. He pays attention to every inch of your hips, charting the flesh with the utmost care and determination, and making it impossible for you to hold grunts and soft sighs of relief — which, despite bringing a tingling heat to your face, only seem to spur him on.

As his fingers trace every line of your lower back and ease pains you didn’t even know you had, it doesn’t take long for you to allow yourself to relax, and it’s no surprise when your mind wanders. It wanders with simple, yet agonizing questions, such as how those palms would feel in other parts of your body. Nothing too daring, just…

… on your neck, untying the knots you sure have there too, or…

… or on your shoulders, kneading the tense areas…

… but maybe your thighs too, caressing their soft, tender skin…

… and maybe a bit higher, in between them too.

You’d never admit it out loud, but for a moment, while your waist is so attentively being touched by him, you pretend that this whole shallow breathing, overthinking and nauseating butterflies thing isn’t one sided, and that his hands aren’t just soothing a pain he feels somewhat responsible for, but rather claiming your skin, like you have wished he’d do, caring for your body as if it’s his to care for.

“You good?” He asks, and you feel intoxicated by his quiet voice sounding from above you.

You hum softly. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“Nice. Can I massage your thighs too?”

Of course you nod. How could you not? Nevermind your thighs are sensitive as fuck. Nevermind the telltale longing you feel as soon as his hands leave your back. What minds, though, is the welcoming warmth of when they find your legs. The delicate and hesitant contact is enough for you to suck in a sharp breath, firmly grasping the comforter beneath your hand.

His palms are as purposeful as they were on your hips, easing the soreness and softening the flesh, while being careful not to surpass or even brush the limit of your shorts — but holy fuck how you wish he would. You wish he would just read your mind and feel as electrified by your skin as you feel by his, because you know — you just know that you’re melting way too fast, tight grip on the bed getting more useless by the minute, and you don’t even notice when your reasonable grunts and sighs turn into breathy whimpers and mellow moans.

But Taehyung notices. Hands hesitating before finally coming to a full stop and parting from your skin when a brush in the hem of your shorts prompts a wanton moan to fall from your lips.

You groan at the loss, your glazed over eyes making you oblivious to his hooded ones as you lift yourself on your elbows to better face him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uhm,” his eyes flicker to your pouting lips, “maybe we— I think we should stop…” he clears his throat. “Yeah. We should stop.”

“Why?” You frown, cautiously turning to sit up straight.

He rehearses an answer a couple of times, opening and closing his mouth exasperatedly, before deciding to not give a fuck to be coherent. “‘Cus— god, you are–you” he runs his hands through his hair, before chuckling humourlessly “shit, you’re driving me fucking insane,” he blurts, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What?” You mutter, not keeping up with the fact that Taehyung’s having a mental breakdown right now.

“You seriously need to ask?” Is he… angry at you right now? “God, you just— shit, sound so fucking hot, you sound like heaven, and touching you is making me all… I don’t even know, I’m not–I can’t think right now, shit, do you have any idea how soft your skin is? Just fucking look at yourself. Your bod–you’re just so beautiful and I’m touching it like it’s not making me fucking horny as hell, and I know we’re friends and shit, but god you’re just…” he finally breaths before noticing your wide eyes and agape mouth. “Shit, I’m— fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll just leave, sorry for whatever the hell this was, please don’t tell Jimi—”

It’s only when Taehyung starts to step back that you snap out of your own head.

Shit.

Jimin is right.

“Taehyung” you reach for his wrist, “shut up.”

“No, but I’m—”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

For a second he looks just as helpless as you feel.

“What.”

“Taehyung,” you stare deep inside his eyes, “keep touching me.”

He blinks, but steps closer to the bed again.

“What are you saying?”

“Damn, boy, do I have to spell it out for you?” You tease, but the neediness is evident in your tone.

His expression softens immediately and he chuckles — somewhat incredulous, somewhat relieved —, drawing his tongue along his bottom lip as he allows his eyes to trail over your whole body, traveling over your chest, then down your legs, before he’s returning his attention to your lips.

Not a single hint of hesitancy veiling his actions anymore.

He steps closer, placing one of his knees on the bed and leaning over you. His hand cradles your jaw, softly tracing the skin. You can feel his breath fanning over your face, and you promptly close your eyes, anticipating what his kiss would feel like.

“Wanna hear you say it.” He whispers against your ear. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

Your mind spins at the pet name, his deep voice lacing it with the purest of honeys as you feel excitement tightening every muscle in your body.

“Taehyung, I…” you swallow thickly, feeling his pillowy lips touching your cheek “I want you.”

You sigh.

“Please.”

And then, his touch leaves your face, and you open your eyes, confused.

He stares at you with desire blanketing his eyes. A small smile crosses his lips before he opens his mouth again.

“Lay back down on your stomach for me, then.” He smirks. “Let me finish your massage.”

You return to your previous position in a heartbeat, expecting Taehyung to do the same, but as soon as you’re comfortable — or as comfortable as one could be while this tense — his legs circle your body and he straddles your thighs, knees framing your hips.

“This ok?” You nod, whispering a quick affirmative. “Tell me if that changes, I can’t see your face.”

“Okay.”

This time, when Taehyung touches you, he traces your skin as one would the finest porcelain, fingertips traveling through the expanse of your back as if trying to memorize each and every inch of it. But he doesn’t avoid reaching higher now, palms raising your top slightly before feeling his way along your sides and down to your ass.

He molds the flesh under his palm, but freezes when a soft squeeze prompts a hiss out of your lips.

“Shit, sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say immediately.

“Right.” He hesitates. “Also, please let me know if I hurt you at any point.” You nod, but he still doesn’t continue. “Tell me you understand.”

“I’ll let you know if you hurt me at any point.” You assure, wiggling your hips a little. “Now, please.”

He chuckles. Your eyes flutter shut as soon as his touch finds your legs, thumbs grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh and you feel like you’re learning how to breathe all over again.

The pleasure he’s eliciting from your body is so profound it’s almost worrisome, and it’s all you can do not to get too much in your head, because you’ve never been touched like this before.

Like, yeah, sure, you could’ve guessed Taehyung’s hands were sinful, or that some deep-buried pent up emotion would make the knot in your stomach that much more delicious, but you don’t think you could’ve dreamt with how easily he’s able to read your body, working you up at an alarming speed as his patient but insistent touch make you feel like one of those white mystical bitches who cum on camera with that tantric bullshit you’ve laughed about before.

If it weren’t for the way your panties are soaking wet already, uncomfortably sticking to your pussy, and for the weight of his body above you, you’d sure be blaming this on some weird sex dream you’d rather never acknowledge.

But as much as you’re enjoying it — and somewhat surprised at his patience —, it doesn’t take long before you start squirming under him, begging for something more intimate.

“Taehyung,” you sob, “more.”

“Shit, you sound so needy. Nothing like the bad bitch I know.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, and it’s supposed to be a reprimand, but he only chuckles.

“Don’t get me wrong, though, I fucking love it. Love to know I’m the one making you feel like this.”

You ignore the way his tone makes your brain stop for a full second before you wiggle down, trying to near his hand to where you need him the most, but his hold is firm on your thighs.

“Shit, don’t tease me.” You cry.

Taehyung clicks his tongue, body leaning forward to press down on your back before his lips find the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think you understand what’s gonna happen here, baby” how is Taehyung’s voice so fucking hot, god, this can’t possibly be fair. “If you want this, you’ll have to behave and listen to me.” His hand finally moves, and a strangled moan falls from your lips when his thumb finds your pussy through the thin fabric of your shorts. “Can you do that?” His lips tease the skin below your ear. “Can you be a good girl for me and let me take care of you?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Why does he sound so calm? And why do you feel anything but?

“Yes,” you mutter under your breath, and Taehyung pulls your earlobe between his teeth before returning to his previous position.

“Good. Now tell me what you want, baby. And be clear.”

His demanding tone sends a wave of arousal to your panties.

“Touch me.” You blurt.

“Ain’t I?” He swipes his thumb over you again and you gasp.

“No–not enough. Just… fuck, please,” you swallow thickly, trying to think, “you know what I want.”

“Uhm, but I don’t. Why don’t you spell it out for me?” Another swipe.

“Shit” you shudder, “give–give me more.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “Take this– my shorts, take them off, please”

He chuckles.

“So needy.” He mocks, but if the speed with which he gets off of you is anything to go by, he’s not much better.

He’s careful to not spark any pain as he slowly pulls your shorts down your legs, but leaves your panties on as he straddles you again and gently grabs your ass.

“Taehyung,” you whine.

“Shit, you sound so pretty saying my name like that,” his fingers swiftly pull your panties aside, and you both let out appreciative moans when he feels up and down your aching pussy. “You’re soaking my fingers, baby,” he murmurs, fingers parting your folds, “want me this bad?”

“I want you so much,” you answer, mind functioning way past self-preservation.

His hand dips down to rub your clit, making your walls flutter around nothing. He speeds up and you hear how wet you are for him, feeling your arousal dripping down your thighs. Taehyung shifts a bit and helps you carefully spread your legs with him still above you, and the momentary discomfort is worth it when he pushes two fingers inside your aching cunt.

“So fucking hot,” he groans, low tone dripping with lust as he starts to properly finger you open for him, “just sucking me in. Can’t wait to feel that around my cock.”

You shudder at his words, doing all you can to not rip the comforter with the force you’re clutching it.

“God, baby, wan–want that too” you gasp.

“Yeah?”

“Want you to fuck me dumb.”

“Holy shit,” he lets out a strained chuckle, “I’d love that too, baby, but if I did that it wouldn’t really help with the pain.”

You swear you had an answer in the tip of your tongue, but Taehyung curves his fingers in that exact moment, hitting your sweet spot just right and you suddenly don’t recognize your own voice, spilling filthy nothings and moaning shamelessly as he pairs his now precise rutting with a languid grinding of his palm on your cunt. “So what about I fuck you sweet and slow instead? Worship this gorgeous body of yours, hum?”

Taehyung takes the way your pussy squeezes his fingers as the answer that it is, and adds a third digit past your dripping folds, further preparing you for him. Your hips jolt when he takes his thumb to your clit, smearing your juices around before he’s rubbing circles over it.

You feel your stomach tensing the longer he fingers you, but as delicious as this is, you didn’t fantasize about this day for months only to cum on his fingers.

“Taehyung, I’m—” you moan wantonly, body tensing under him, “I’m close, but I don’t wanna—”, his fingers leave your cunt with a loud squelch, and he pushes himself away from you just as quickly.

“Turn around for me, angel.”

You take a second to process his words, his abrupt stop making you feel devastatingly empty, but as soon as you do as he says, he dives down to slot his lips against yours — and holy shit.

Taehyung kisses you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Mouth molding over yours with an intensity that makes you feel loved. His hands travel over your body with similar admiration, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips to tangle with yours as you two savor each other.

Your mouths fit perfectly together while your skin burns with desire. He’s such a good kisser, matching your rhythm with ease.

You slither your fingers through his hair, pulling the strands and turning his face slightly to deepen the kiss. He makes you drunk, intoxicated in the sweet taste of his lips, and the sloppier it gets, the hungrier you get.

“Wanna kiss you everywhere” he moans, mouth parting from yours to trace your chin and jaw, licking and sucking on the skin, while he starts to push your top up.

“You first” you mutter, running your hands down his chest and sliding them beneath his shirt, nails scraping against his stomach before you’re raising it up his torso.

He sends you a disarming smirk, kneeling on the bed to pull his shirt off.

“God, Taehyung, for fuck’s sake” you groan. “How are you real?”

“You’re one to say.”

“You damn right I am.” You scoff, suddenly self-conscious. “Have you seen yourself? How do you expect me to undress in front of you?”

“Nah, stop that shit,” he huffs out a laugh, leaning above you again to whisper against your ear, “where’s the bad girl I know? The one who owns every room she walks in, huh? If anyone should be insecure here, it should be me,” you bite your lip and he tugs on your shirt, “let me see you too, babe.”

You pout, but help him take off your top — and his gaze burns through your bare chest, impossibly darker.

“So fucking perfect,” he mouths, before diving in and taking your lips again, kissing you fervently and letting his hands run free over your whole body.

His large palms cup your tits, grabbing them and caressing the soft flesh for a while, then pinching and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. He moves his lips to your cheek, leaving small bites along the side of your jaw before he buries his face in the curve of your neck, licking and kissing every single spot.

“I’ve been dreaming about this body for so long” he says against your skin, “I thought I was gonna die when I saw you with a bikini on that trip” he admits. “But seeing you like this— actually seeing you,” he takes his lips further down, “shit, you’re prettier than any dream, than any thought I could have.”

You feel your whole body warm with his praise, mind spinning as you try to make sense of his words — but failing miserably as he closes his mouth around one of your tits. Your eyes flutter shut and you roughly pull his hair, eliciting the sexiest fucking sounds out of him, all while rewarding them with your own loud pleasure as his tongue fondles with your nipple. His lips chart every inch of you, leaving no spot untasted or unkissed as he makes your body his.

“You make me dizzy,” he mumbles, “shit, can’t fucking get enough.”

He seems so fucking satisfied. Smuggly smiling against your body whenever you shudder or moan a bit too loud, pride overwhelming his features whenever his name meets his ears in a shaky breath, reveling in the way you melt under him.

Taehyung pulls the waistband of your panties between his teeth, biting down on the fabric to then carefully and slowly slide them down your legs, not daring to take his eyes away from yours until you are completely naked under him.

“Wanna taste you so bad.”

You feel goosebumps trailing over your skin, the idea sending a fresh wave of arousal down your cunt. So, naturally, when you pull him up and shake your head, you’re almost as surprised as him.

“No…” you whisper, and he freezes, worry taking over his face, “want you to fuck me.” Relief washes over his face, before a slow, teasing smirk takes over his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. “Shit, Tae, I need you to fuck me.”

Your whole face heats up when he snickers.

“Say that again.” You bite down on your lip when he grips your flesh with a bit more force than before. “My name,” he whispers, crawling up to caress your cheek. “Say my name like that again. Like you’ll fucking die if I don’t give you what you want.” His palm chases down your neck and pushes your head back a bit.

“Tae…” you sigh, closing your eyes when he kisses your jaw, “Taehyung, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, so hot” he whispers on your ear. “Begging for cock like a good girl,” you whine when he pulls your earlobe between his teeth. “Are you always needy like this? So desperate to be fucked?”

It is humiliating to admit, and you feel a not-so-sexy kind of anxiety creeping up on you and catching up with you clouded brain, because you know damn well you’ve never begged for shit — and that's why a teasing smile and innocent look is the best you can muster before pulling him in for a kiss.

Taehyung takes a second to process your touch, but soon melts into it, slipping his tongue past your lips and securing your waist on his hands. He rolls his hips, pressing his clothed erection on your cunt, and you both shiver at the friction.

“Why the fuck you still have your pants on?”

“Was kinda distracted,” he scoffs, and your hands reach between your bodies for his belt. You struggle with the poor angle, but eventually manages to open his jeans, and Taehyung lets out a relieved sigh, sitting up to properly push his pants off.

“Hurry up,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together.

“You’re this eager to see my butt?”

“Yeah, wanna see where you hid it.”

“Damn,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he tosses his last piece of clothing away.

It’s pathetic. It’s so fucking pathetic the way your jaw goes slack and your eyes widen. But what can you do when you finally see his cock — the one you’ve imagined way more times than someone who doesn’t have a crush probably should. He’s so hard it sure must be painful and precum collects at the tip, making your mouth water.

“Wanna suck you.”

“If I ain’t tasting you, you ain’t sucking me.” You pout.

“You just scared you won’t last.”

“I wasn’t the one begging less than a minute ago.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckles, slotting himself between your thighs.

He teases up your entrance, smearing your arousal around your pussy until his crown finds your clit and a low moan rips from your throat. You’ve never been this wet before — but you’ve also never felt this wanted before either.

Then, Taehyung’s patience seems to finally have reached its limit — his own teasing overbearing even for himself, because he doesn’t wait another second as he parts your folds, pressing his tip before finally pushing in. You tighten your grip on his shoulder, digging your nails on his flesh while his eyes are hypnotized by the way your cunt throbs around him, adjusting to his size as he fills you to the brim.

“You ok?” He whispers, heavy breath fanning your face as you thread your fingers through his hair.

You nod, “Please, move.”

He starts to roll his hips back.

“God, you’re so tight,” Taehyung groans, eyes rolling back at the way you clench around him.

“Shit,” you moan, “this feels so fucking good,” you’re not really aware of the words leaving your mouth, feeling as if you’ve lost your ability to think — an ability that you weren’t particularly good at in the first place.

When Taehyung moves back in, you can feel every inch of him as he stuffs you full, grinding on you as soon as your hips meet and stimulating every part of you. He sets a disarming pace, cock reaching deep with every stroke and he has to control every urge in his body not to pound into you like you both would like him to.

And you’re not used to this. You’re not used to the softness of his hold nor with the care he fucks you with.

Sex for you always felt like a race, but Taehyung makes it feels as if he stopped time altogether. The overwhelming bliss he sparks within your body is just so fucking good, already so much better than any past orgasms you’ve had.

When he feels you fully accommodate him, he speeds up enough to have you spiraling but not enough so your thighs are hurting. Between lustful moans and low groans, his hooded eyes search yours to read your every reaction, to understand which angle makes your brows furrow deeper, which rhythm makes you sound the most vulgar, and you can feel yourself dissolving into pleasure — the toe-curling, mind fucking and dangerous type — in no time.

He whispers the dirtiest things in your ear, tracing your neck with his tongue and biting on your jaw, loud pleasure and wet sounds fill the room.

You ignore the slight pain that hits your body whenever he makes your hips jolt or your legs shake, mostly because his soothing hands are anxious over your skin: fingers digging on your thighs, palms grabbing your hips, pinning you down on the bed to contain some of your roughest spasms. You’ve never been fucked so deep and so deliciously before.

You babble what seems like his name, but you’re too lost to be sure, desperate and uncoordinated sounds leaving your mouth loud enough to earn you some noise complaints later.

“Shit— ngh, so–so fucking good.” You arch your back, and Taehyung takes his hands to massage your tits.

Your head tilts back on the comforter, eyes squeezing shut despite your desire to keep looking at him — at his dark, unwavering gaze, staring you down while fucking you so deliciously —, but it’s just too much. You swear he’s on a mission to make you lose your goddamn mind as he earnestly fucks you, reaching every spot and grinding on you.

“Feels so good like this,” he grunts, “just sucking me in, so fucking wet.”

And you don’t answer — because you can’t. There’s nothing but Taehyung’s name in your mind, and some shaky version of it reaching his ears.

You can already feel the steady pressure building in the pit of your stomach, making your legs shiver around him as your whole body tightens.

“Shit,” he buries his face in your neck, feeling you constrict around him, “you close?”

You nod, biting his shoulder as a guttural moan leaves your lips.

“Then cum for me, princess, cream my cock.” He commands, pressing his thumb down on your clit at the same time, and making you come undone beneath him.

Taehyung can't really detain your whole body from quivering, hips buckling while your back arches from before you collapse on the bed.

An exhaustion takes over you, and it feels like hours until you’re finally able to open your eyes again.

Your body’s still quivering with aftershocks, pussy way too sensitive as Taehyung fucks you with lazy, shallow thrusts.

“Shit, that was so fucking hot” he groans, before his brows knit up, “I’m close too.”

He suddenly pulls away, quickly rising to kneeling position and circling his glistening cock with his large hand. His eyes travel over your body as he pumps himself, palm focusing on the tip as he chases his own release.

You ignore the way you pussy clenches at the sight.

“In my mouth,” you mutter, voice barely audible — but he hears you, because his movements falter.

“What did you say?”

“Want you to cum in my mouth.” You lick your lips before supporting yourself on your hands to get closer to his crotch. He groans when you replace his hand with yours, jerking his length to spread some of your juices around before closing your lips around his tip.

His head immediately falls back with an elongated grunt. And you feel your pussy leaking when he starts to twitch inside your mouth.

“So fucking good,” he praises, making you hum.

It takes only a few expert flicks of your tongue and hollowing of your cheeks before Taehyung’s hips buck and you feel his salty taste spilling down your throat. You keep sucking him, milking every last drop of his cum and swallowing it all like a champ, before releasing him with a pop and cleaning your lips with the back of your hand.

“You just swallowed my cum.” He says, as if trying to process it.

A sly smile takes over your face, but it doesn’t stay long as Taehyung’s face slowly scrunches up in what can only be described as sorrow. His lips turn into a pout and he gets off the bed in a heartbeat, searching for his discarded clothing.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

Your mind, empty a second ago, suddenly overflows with a million thoughts.

Shouldn't you have swallowed his cum? Did he want to cum on your tits? Why the fuck are his eyes glossy like that? Is he crying because he wanted to cum on your tits? Why is your heart about to explode? Say something, why can’t you just say something?

“I’m really sorry about this” he starts, pushing his underwear up his body, “I can’t believe I–that we…” he groans, running his hands through his hair the same way you were doing just seconds ago.

It hits you maybe too late into the overthinking process that having sex with Taehyung wasn't probably the best idea — not only due to his current euphoric attempt at an escape, but also because now, after your brain starts functioning at a normal speed after cuming that hard, you’re finally able to process the messy string of thoughts knotting inside your head and come to the alarming conclusion that… yeah, you kinda have a crush on that man fleeing from you right now — undeniably so, given that he’s struggling to stop crying after fucking you and you still feel the urge to cuddle with him and pinch his cheeks.

The fuck is wrong with you.

“Taehyung.” You call, remnants from his cum lingering on your mouth.

Thank god Keke Palmer is secured behind that closet not to see you failing her like that.

He’s mumbling to himself, seemingly forgetting that you can, in fact, hear him.

“— can’t believe I just fucked her, this did not just happened—” he says, among sniffles, fighting with his zipper, “argh, this was so fucking good, she was so fucking hot and now I just won’t be able to forget this shit and this is the opposite of what I was supposed to do—”

“Taehyung!”

“What?!” He snaps, giving up on his jeans and letting them fall uncomfortably on his thighs.

“The fuck you on about, man?”

He lets out a strangled noise, exasperated by your calmness.

“How am I supposed to get over you if my dick is now in love with you too?” He blurts, probably unintentionally, probably not realizing that you’re on the receiving end of that statement.

“... Well, damn.”

He sobs when it hits him. You just chuckle.

“Please, forget I ever said that—”

“Why, tho? This was the most romantic shit someone’s ever said to me.”

His exasperated groans are so fucking cute.

“I… sorry, let’s just pretend I never said anything. I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh. That’s too bad, cus I kinda like you too.”

“That’s not what I…” He closes his mouth immediately, eyes wide in a mix of panic and bewilderment as you smile.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean right now.”

You chuckle.

“Why? Gonna cry?” He actually sobs. “Damn, boy, you sound nothing like the bad bitch I know.” You mock, but then bite your lip and crawl off the bed, trying to stand in front of him despite your stumbling legs. “I like you too, you dumbass. Been liking you for sometime, actually.”

You place your hand on his face, softly cleaning the tears off his cheeks.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He frowns, breathing finally normalizing.

“But you never really talk to me.”

“Yeah, I was kind of in denial and your personality didn’t help.”

“... That’s a compliment, right?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, Tae.”

“And what was yesterday about, then?”

“I was obviously trying to seduce you. And look at you,” you smile proudly, “seduced.”

“Yeah, ‘cus there’s nothing sexier than a sweaty woman fighting to stay on top of a horse, if you ask me.”

He opens one of those large, intoxicating boxy smiles of his, and you’re suddenly unable to smile back.

“Honestly? You intimidated the hell out of me. But seeing you completely out of your element yesterday watching me train some kids at a stud farm?” He chuckles. “Made me realize that… yeah, you’re amazing and all the shit I already thought… But you’re kinda lame too.”

Your mouth falls open.

“I’m sorry, you just said your dick’s in love with me, asshole.” You roll your eyes. “And you were about to fucking flee the scene. While crying, may I add.”

“Yeah, cus you just ate my cum,” he smirks. “That does something to a guy’s heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, right.”

He shakes his head, an annoying smile still plastered on his face.

“I really do like you, you know? And like… we don’t have to figure anything out right now, this doesn’t even feel real yet, but…” he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest, “I really fucking like you.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, slowly running his finger over your lips. This time, his kiss is tender, full of unhesitant affection. You two fumble backwards, and he carefully lays you on your back, falling beside you and pulling you to frame his side.

“I like you too.” You whisper, snuggling closer.

“We can do those corny things together now. Like… uhm, like watch that Real Jackson show you always talk ab—” you grimace.

“It’s True Jackson, Taehyung.”

“Whatever, same difference.” Keke please forgive his ignorant soul. “Oh, and I’ll take you to ride with me.”

“Yeah, don’t push it. There’s not a single chance I’ll be riding again.”

“Oh, no, babe,” he and offers you a smirk, “I meant riding this fucking dick!”

Sigh.

But honestly, that might not be too bad.

note ↠ sooo, what we think? 🥹 writing this after taking a break was way harder than anticipated lol, but i made it! so i hope y'all enjoy it note² ↠ all form of feedback is deeply appreciated! note³ ↠ you can go back to navigation here

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ereardon · 2 years

Text

As It Was [Chapter 4][Hangman x Reader]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: When Jake Seresin calls to tell you he’s accepted a permanent position at Top Gun, you’re elated to finally be living in the same city as your best friend. But everything changes when Jake tells you his news — he has a new girlfriend, and he’s serious about her. And while you want to like her, for Jake’s sake, something about her feels wrong. Jake's arrival in San Diego also puts you in the direct path of Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, who has set his sights on you despite being Jake’s sworn enemy. Every move Rooster makes, Jake intercepts. What game are these two playing, and why is Jake more concerned about you moving on with Rooster than he is about his own relationship?

WC: 5K

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol, no use of y/n, violence, smut, Greek life, mention of vomit

Series masterlist here

The night you met Jake Seresin, you were dressed in a fuzzy cow costume.

It was hell week for the sorority, and that night’s test was to crash a fraternity formal in animal costumes, steal a date, and meet back at the old bell tower on campus. You had drawn sticks from a cup that designated the costume, which ranged from sexy cheetah to oversized elephant. You had pulled the cow costume which included a hood, as well as bright pink rubber udders on the front.

“I’m going to throw up,” you said, turning to the girl next to you. She had on a monkey costume — headband with ears, large furry suspender pants, ugly brown t-shirt.

She looked you up and down. “Not in the costume, they’ll never get that out even at the dry cleaners.”

Paulina, the chapter’s president, stood in front of the group, tiny pink dress pulled taut across her washboard abs. “Alright girls, time to pair off and find your partner. Remember, nobody gets on the arc without stealing a date. Freshers count, but bonus points for upperclassmen. You have twenty minutes.” She sunk a fresh manicured finger onto an old school stopwatch, the kind your gym coach from elementary school would have, and the rest of the girls bolted ahead toward the stately door of the SigEp house. Their ferocity and intensity scared you, and you jogged through the open door after them.

Everywhere you looked, there were girls in animal costumes chatting up available men. You wandered through the rooms of the house, but every guy you spotted was snapped up instantly. The minutes ticked by in seconds, and you felt a sweat breaking out on your neck under the hood.

Meandering to the back of the house, you opened a door to the back porch, stepped out under the glow of the single security light, and unzipped the top half of the costume, exposing the sports bra you had on underneath to the cool night air.

“I think that’s cheating.” You whipped around, coming face to face with a blond in a blue blazer and slacks, an untapped keg at his feet.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to convince someone to go with you while you’re still wearing the costume. It’s cheating if you show how hot you are underneath it.”

You smirked. “If by hot you mean sweaty, then you’re right.”

He shook his head. “Nope, just hot. Plain and simple.”

You eyed the keg at his feet. “So you’re the fraternity waterboy?”

“Ouch, sweetheart, that hurts,” he said, putting one tanned hand to his chest. “I’m a pledge. Gotta do my share of the work. Tonight, that means keg duty.”

In the distance there were screeches and you saw couples flocking out of the house, running toward the bell tower. Your watch said you had eight minutes to spare. “OK waterboy. What will it take to get you to run away with me tonight? I can offer you instant ramen, a nearly empty coffee cart gift card, or one hour of chemistry tutoring. Yours for the choosing.”

He flashed you a pearly white smile while leaning against the railing. “Darlin’, you don’t have to offer me a damn thing. I’d run away with you anyday.”

You rolled your eyes and zipped the costume back up, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “Hurry up or we’re going to get cut,” you said. “Last ones have to clean the house tomorrow.”

“Well we can’t have that can we?” he asked, threading his fingers into yours and pulling you down the back stairs. “I’m Jake, by the way.”

“Abby,” you replied, smiling.

“OK, Abby, can you run in that costume?”

You shrugged. “Time to find out.”

Jake tugged you along toward the bell tower. When you tripped over a curb, he leaned down and grabbed you. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said, “but I’m more than a little competitive. So don’t wimp out on me now.”

You laughed and let him drag you to the finish line, with two minutes to spare. Four other couples came in after you, and three more after the buzzer ran out. Jake high fived you once Paulina’s alarm went off, signaling the challenge time was up, and let out a whoop. You laughed and saw him eyeing you.

“What?” you asked as the rest of the couples started to split off. You unzipped the costume again, this time stopping right above your chest. “Is it the costume? It’s stupid, I know.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m just thinking how lucky I am that you picked me, of all people.”

“Being a waterboy has its perks.”

Jake laughed and stepped closer, brushing a chunk of hair behind your ear. It felt different than the buzz that had radiated up your arm when he had touched your hand earlier. This felt intentional. “I’ll see you around, Abby.”

And then he dropped his hand and walked away, throwing one last glance over his shoulder. You caught his green eyes and smiled, and he grinned back before disappearing into the early morning mist.

***

“I literally do not know where he gets off being so high and mighty.” You sighed and tossed one arm over your eyes. Phoenix tutted her tongue, setting down a bottle of wine and plate of cheese on the coffee table and sitting down next to you on the couch.

“Have you met Seresin?” she asked. “That’s literally his personality.”

“That might be Hangman,” you said. “But it’s not Jake. He’s never been that way with me before. This is a whole new side of him, and I don’t like it.”

“I think you’ve seen a side of him that none of us have seen before,” she replied thoughtfully. “To us, he’s a jackass. To you, he’s your best friend. There has to be some redeeming quality deep down that we just haven’t seen but that you know about.”

You nodded. “When he’s good, he’s perfect. Jake is the person who has been there for me for everything. Every break up. Every bad test score. When I wanted to leave big pharma and go into academia he was the only one cheering me on.” You looked up at Phoenix and shook your head. “I thought having him back here would be great. But all it’s done is drive us further apart.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What about Rooster?” she asked. “What are you doing with him?”

You shrugged. “Bradley? He’s great. We’re having a really nice time.”

Phoenix leaned over and pinched a piece of cheese between her thumb and index finger. “Brad is one of my best friends. I just don’t want to see him get hurt.”

You reached out and laid your hand on her knee. “I promise, that is not my intention. I like him a lot. I’m just not trying to rush anything.”

“So you’re not just using him to make Jake jealous?”

“Oh my God, no! I genuinely like him, Phoenix.”

She smiled and popped the cheese into her mouth, swallowing before starting her next sentence. “He deserves someone good.”

You leaned back into the couch cushion. “So what’s this beef between him and Jake? Or is nobody going to ever tell me.”

Phoenix shook her head. “All I know is they had a mission together before the Uranium plant where I met Hangman. And by the time we got there, they were already on the outs. Brad’s never gone into full details.”

You sighed and bit into a grape. “I’ve known Jake to have people he doesn’t like before. But this? This is a new level. I’ve never seen him so agitated by someone before.”

“I don’t think it’s just Rooster that’s got him hot under the collar.”

“What do you mean?”

She gave you a devilish grin. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Kidding about what?”

“It’s pretty obvious there’s a part of him that’s in love with you.”

You laughed and waved your hand in the air. “No. Absolutely not. I can see why you say that, but no.”

“Come on,” she said, leaning forward and draining her wine glass with a quick tip back into her mouth. “The way he looks at you?”

“You know, Bradley said the same thing on our first date. Something about seeing the way Jake looks at me.”

“Because it’s so obvious. He doesn’t even try to hide it.”

You shook your head. “There’s a fine line between friendship and love. We’ve just hovered on the end of the friendship spectrum for so long that maybe it looks like something it’s not to an outside viewer.”

Phoenix ran one hand through her silky brown hair. “There’s something there, even if you don’t see it. I’ve known Hangman for a while now. And I’ve never seen him talk about anyone the way he talks about you.”

“What about Diana?” you asked.

She laughed. “What about her? Who is she even? I don’t buy that for one second. He shows up out of the blue with this wallflower. Jake Seresin, really?”

“They’re living together.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Shut up.”

“I’m dead serious.”

Phoenix was quiet for a moment. Then, “I still don’t buy it.”

You laughed and reached for the half empty wine bottle. “What’s there to buy? He told me himself. I went over there. I saw how they were. They’re sweet with each other.”

Phoenix looked up, her brown eyes smoothing over yours. “Mark my words. It won’t last.”

***

You pulled your phone out of the top drawer of your desk after your last lab of the day and sighed. Five missed calls from Jake. Two voicemails. You clicked the first one.

“Abs it’s me. I’m sorry. Honey, I am so sorry. I was drunk and I was an ass, and there’s just a lot of history there with Bradshaw that you don’t know about. I promise, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Please call me back? I’m sorry.”

You sighed and pressed the second message.

“I think this is the longest we’ve ever gone without talking. Even when I stood you up winter formal sophomore year, you still had dinner with me at Branford the next night. Remember? Anyway, Diana is out of town this weekend visiting family. Can I have you over for dinner? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. If you want to, you can bring him. I miss you, Bubs. More than you even realize. Love you. Call me back.”

Leaning back in your desk chair, you sighed and slid the phone over to the edge of the desk. There was a stack of lab reports a hundred high on the desk, along with scantrons for the midterm exam. You had a journal research article due at the end of the month and had only started the abstract.

Outside, the sidewalks were teeming with students. Thursday afternoon meant half of them were getting ready to binge drink the night away, while the other half toiled away in the library until the nerd bell kicked them out at two in the morning. You had always been the latter, and Jake had been the former. It’s what made you work as a pair.

Your phone buzzed and you almost ignored it, but then thought better and flipped it over. Bradley’s name slid across the top and you instantly hit the green button.

“Hello?”

“Hey there,” his deep voice rang out over the line. You smiled and propped your feet up on the desk, leaning back into the plush chair you had begged the department for. “What are you up to?”

“Just sitting in my office, thinking about what I’m going to eat when I finally make my way through this stack of grading.”

“Blow it off and let me take you out.��

You groaned into the microphone. “Ugh, that sounds amazing. But if I don’t want to get stuck here all weekend I should get a head start on these.”

“God, baby, don’t moan into the phone like that. Gets me all kinds of bothered.”

You laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Mmhm,” he whispered huskily into the phone. “OK, how about I let you work tonight and tomorrow you let me take you out? How’s that for a compromise?”

“Is it too early to ask for favors?”

“Ask away.” “Jake called. Well he called about five times. Apparently Diana is out of town this weekend and he wants to have us over for dinner. You and me.”

You could hear the surprise threaded through Rooster’s voice. “Both of us?”

“I know, I’m surprised too.”

“But you want to go,” he said.

“I’m not sure.”

“Abby,” Bradley pressed. “You want to go. You wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise.”

You were quiet on the other end. Pondering. He wasn’t wrong and you hated that. As poorly as Jake had acted, you missed him, too. He was not just part of your routine. He was an extension of yourself. “I know he’s an ass,” you said and Bradley huffed. “But he’s my best friend and I do love him. So maybe I owe him the space to give us an apology.”

“If you really want to, I’ll go,” he said. “Seresin is not high on my list of favorite people, but you are.”

You smiled. “God, you’re adorable.”

“So you’ll be in your office all night tonight?”

“Unfortunately, I think so,” you said, eyeing the stack of papers again. “But I’m all yours tomorrow? I’ll see what day Jake wants to do dinner and will let you know.”

“OK, baby. I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Bye,” you whispered. “Bye, hon.”

You clicked the phone off and sighed, and then pulled up Jake’s contact.

Bradley is coming to dinner, too. Tomorrow or Saturday?

He texted back instantly. Either. Your choice. I can’t wait to see you.

Tomorrow, you replied.

I’ll see you tomorrow, he wrote back. And then, I miss you, Abs. Not talking to you every day kills me.

You sighed. I hate that I miss you, too, you wrote and then clicked off the phone and turned it over.

Darkness blanketed the office and it was hours before you realized just how dark it really was, flicking on a small lamp on the desk before pouring over the last of the Tuesday afternoon session lab reports.

It was so dark and spooky that you jumped when your office door inched open.

“Fuck!” you screamed as Bradley’s mustache came into full view.

“I’m sorry!” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.” You stood up and crossed the room. “What are you doing here?” You wrapped your arms around his large form, and felt him squeeze you tightly.

“I’m here to rescue you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Come on, you’ve done enough work for the night. Let’s go have some fun.”

You smiled and nodded, crossing the room to grab your phone and purse. In the parking lot, you looked up. “My car is here.”

Bradley pondered it for a moment. “OK. How about you follow me, then?”

You nodded and he kissed you quickly before hopping in his truck. You pulled out behind him in your coupe, following him on back roads in the darkness. Finally, Bradley pulled into a cute bungalow near the beach and you pulled up next to him, getting out of the car. “So, this is where you live?”

He stepped up to the front door, painted cherry red, and inserted a worn key. “It’s nothing special, but it’s home.”

The house was charming, with warped wooden floors and a small kitchen. There were photos lining the walls and you noticed a man who looked incredibly similar to Rooster in many of them. Rooster walked straight into the living room and waved a hand.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

You dropped your purse next to the couch and went to examine the photos on the walls. A blonde woman with short hair and the mustache guy were in most of them, as well as some of Bradley and his friends over the years. There was one of him and Phoenix in flight suits, and another with the full dagger squad. Even Jake was in the corner of that, surprisingly.

“I thought you might be hungry.” You whipped around to see Bradley carrying a tray with sandwiches on it, a bag of chips, a big bowl of strawberries, and two beers and water. “Wasn’t sure what you’d want, but this is the best I’ve got.”

“You’re adorable,” you said, crossing the room and brushing his arm before collapsing on the couch as he set the tray down on the low coffee table. “You have no idea how exhausted I am. Why did I think it was a good idea to be a professor?”

He smiled and handed you a beer. “I don’t know, but I gotta say it’s insanely sexy.”

You laughed. “Being a professor is sexy?”

“Oh yeah. It’s the leveled up version of the schoolteacher fantasy. Are you going to flunk me, Professor Minces?”

You took a sip of the beer and put it back on the tray before hitching forward, crawling slowly over Bradley until you were eye to eye, his head pressed back against the armrest of the couch. “That depends, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Have you been skipping class?”

He shook his head and grinned. “And miss seeing that ass while you stand in front of the class? No way in hell.”

You tutted his cheek mockingly, and he grabbed your wrist tightly. “That’s no way to speak to your professor, now is it?” you whispered.

He moved his grip from your wrist up to your chin. “Kiss me and I’ll make it all worth it, I promise.”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips tightly to his, Bradley’s arms quickly wrapped around you and he sat up, pulling you onto his lap before standing and carrying you across the living room. He didn’t break the kiss once, not even as he jiggled open the door to the bedroom. It wasn’t until he deposited you on the bed, kicking off his boots, that he let go for a second.

To your surprise, he reached down and slipped off your heels, placing them gently on the ground next to his discarded boots, before running his hands up your legs, over the material of your work slacks, until he was hovering above you.

“God, you’re sexy.”

You reached up and threaded your fingers in his hair. It had been two weeks since you met Bradley but he felt familiar in a way you hadn’t experienced in a long time. There was something magnetic about him. Perhaps it was how easy he let you in. Or how absolutely fucking gorgeous he looked when he was staring into your eyes, his giant hands trailing along your side.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

“Just you,” you said, wrapping your legs around him and pulling his face back to yours. You felt him groan on top of you, dropping down to his forearms, tongue pushing between your lips.

In a moment, Bradley was everywhere.

His hands inside your blouse, ripping open the buttons and you heard one fall to the floor but you didn’t care. Not when his hot mouth was on your nipple, a hand yanking down the bra cup to expose you to him. You moaned into his shoulder as he rolled his hips against yours, and even clothed you could feel him, hard and stretched against the tight denim he was wearing.

Bradley’s hands on your bare thighs as he rolled your pants down achingly slow, taunting you.

The heat of his skin as he pressed his naked body against yours, your legs wrapped around his torso, his mouth pressed to your neck, your fingers clawing on the back of his muscular back.

His mouth between your legs, making you cry out his name.

The way he grinned as he pulled his fingers out of you, licked them feverishly, before leaning over and kissing you tenderly.

Bradley’s unabashed moan as you nodded and he sunk his cock into you, slowly, filling you to the brim. The way he rocked against you slowly until you were comfortable, and then reached his fingers up around your neck and drove into you repeatedly while you gasped his name.

“What do you want, kitten?” he gritted, fucking into you, one hand easing up on your throat, the other gripped tightly around one thigh, pressing your leg back so he could push further inside of you.

“Want you to come inside of me,” you whispered hoarsely.

Bradley loosened his fingers on your throat by an inch. “Say it again, like you mean it.”

“Come inside of me, Lieutenant,” you moaned as his other hand moved from your thigh to your clit expertly and you started to crash around him. “Fuck, fuck, please, Bradley. God, yes!”

That tipped him over the edge, and he was sputtering, cursing, moaning as he collapsed on top of you, your hands stroking his back softly. After a minute, he peeled himself away, propping up on one arm. “Holy shit,” he murmured and you laughed, pressing your face into the pillow with a blush. “You OK, sweetheart?” His thumb reached out, grazed your cheek. He could go from sweet to fucking you into the mattress in a second, and then back to sweet in an instant. It would have given you whiplash if it didn’t excite you so much.

You nodded. “Perfect.”

He laid back and turned his head to look at you. “Yes, you are.”

You chuckled and stood up. “Can I use your shower?”

“Only if you let me join you.”

You took off toward the bathroom you had spotted next door and Bradley chased after you, your laughs echoing through the small hallway of the house.

In the morning, you woke up to the sun shining brightly through the light curtains of the bedroom. Bradley lay next to you, naked under the pale gray sheet, snoring lightly, his hair curled around the edges.

He felt different than the men you had been with in the past. As you shrugged on a shirt of his from the closet, a large button down that hung to your knees — he had ripped your shirt from the day before to shreds in his eagerness to take it off of you — you realized why he felt that way.

Despite their differences, Jake and Bradley had one thing in common.

They made you feel safe.

***

Bradley looked at you across the truck consol. “Are you ready?”

You glanced over at him. He had on a blue button down shirt, a pair of jeans and boots. He looked calm, cool, and collected.

Meanwhile, you felt a pit growing in your stomach. In fourteen years, you had never once iced out Jake the way you had over the last week. It was the longest you had gone without speaking, like he said in his voicemail. But it was also the longest you had ever let yourself be mad at him.

You took a deep breath. Bradley opened his door, got out and walked around to your side and helped you down from the truck. He gave you a once over, taking in your long sleeve dress with the cinched waist. “You look great,” he whispered, taking your hand.

“Don’t kill each other, OK?” you begged as you two approached the door.

He chuckled.

“I mean it!” you said, swatting his arm. “Or I swear to God.”

Bradley laughed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll match him. If he’s behaved, I will be, too.”

You grimaced. “God I hope there’s wine.”

Bradley reached out and knocked on the door, two sharp knocks. The door swung open immediately, revealing Jake standing in a pair of socks, jeans and a crew neck sweater. You hated how good he looked when he was such an ass.

Normally, you would throw yourself into his arms. It felt unnatural to stand there for even a moment, weighing your decision.

“Hey Bubs,” he said softly and his voice started to wear away at your icy exterior. He leaned forward for a hug and you leaned in only the top half of your body, catching his cheek and giving him a side kiss. Jake’s fingertips danced lightly over your waist, until you pulled away. He gave you a sad smile.

“Hey Jake,” you replied, stepping instead and reaching for Bradley’s hand, pulling him in next to you.

“Hangman,” he said, nodding.

“Bradshaw.”

“Thanks for inviting us over.” Bradley was already compensating for your inability to act normal. He looked around at the house. “Nice digs.”

Jake shrugged and shut the door. “Mostly Diana’s doing. I’ve never been one for interior design.”

Since you had first come to the house, all of the boxes had been cleared away. Black and white photographs lined the entry wall. You spotted a couch across from two chairs in the living room that you know Jake never would have chosen himself. He was more of a giant sectional type of guy. Something big and plush to watch the game on, fall asleep on, fuck on. He liked things to be multi-purpose. The house barely looked like his.

“Come in,” he said, leading the way into the living room. “Do you want a drink?” “God, yes,” you breathed and he laughed.

“What'll it be, darlin’?”

“White wine is good.”

He nodded. “Bradshaw, what can I get you?”

“Bourbon, if you have it.”

“Done. Make yourselves comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

You gave Bradley a look before settling on the couch. “This is weird,” you whispered to him. He took a seat next to you.

“I know, baby.”

“He’s trying, though,” you said. “He hasn’t thrown a punch your way yet.”

Bradley chuckled. “Permission to punch him back if he does?”

You ran a finger down his face and smiled. “Permission granted, Lieutenant.”

Jake appeared with the drinks and you downed the wine. “So, how have you been?”

You looked at Bradley. “Fine, busy.”

Bradley nodded and threaded his fingers through yours. “A little sleep deprived.”

Jake’s jaw tightened as he took in Bradley’s innuendo and your tight grip on each other, but he simply tossed back his drink — straight bourbon. Bradley did the same and you sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Later, at dinner, you had two more glasses and started to feel fuzzy. Jake had ordered in food, not willing to take the risk on his cooking skills which were limited to fried eggs and bacon. You watched them carefully. How they spoke to each other. How they stood around each other. There was a familiarity, and a coldness.

You watched Bradley as he told stories, made conversation. Once, you looked up to see Jake watching you, instead. You caught his eye and instead of turning away or looking down, he simply smiled. The way he was looking at you gave you a pang in your stomach. You turned away instantly, back to Bradley.

He stretched his hands over his head. “Well, Seresin, thanks for dinner. But we should probably be going. I have a long run planned for tomorrow and Abby here is apparently behind on some grading.”

“Oh, really?” Jake asked and you nodded.

“Unfortunately. Midterms. I really should get a TA but sometimes they’re more hassle than they’re worth.”

You stood up alongside Bradley, and Jake rushed to his feet. “Abs, could you stay? So we can talk?”

You hesitated, literally standing between Bradley and Jake. Each one giving you a look. Bradley’s was surprise mixed with disdain. Jake’s was hopeful, saturated with pain. “Sure.”

Bradley tightened next to you. “Can we talk outside for a second first?” he asked gruffly. You nodded and let him pull you down the hallway and out the front door, slamming it a little too hard behind him. Outside, you looked up at him. He was pacing around the porch. “Is this what it’s going to be like?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“He comes first, is that it?” he demanded. “I’ll always be the B-squad to Seresin in your mind. He asks you to stay, I ask you to go, and you stay.”

“Bradley,” you said, stepping forward and catching his arms in yours, calming him. Grounding him. “No, that is not it.”

“Then leave with me,” he said. “Let me take you home and make you mine.” He leaned down, breath hot against your ear. “Now that I know what it’s like to be inside of you, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

A jolt zipped through your body and you looked up at Bradley. He was looking at you so intensely you thought you might melt into a puddle of wax right there on the porch.

“I won’t be long,” you said and watched as his face fell. “Jake and I, we just have some laundry to air out. I promise, I’ll be back in your bed in no time.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Just forget about it, OK?”

He brushed past you and jogged down the steps. “Bradley!” you shouted. “Baby, please. Don’t take this the wrong way.”

Bradley looked up and shook his head. “Without even realizing it, you’re choosing him. You two are the same, you know. It’s going to get you in trouble one day.”

He climbed into the truck and peeled off, and you were left standing on the porch, watching him drive away.

“Abby.” You whipped around to see Jake standing at the door.

You walked over and he reached out to cup your cheek with his palm. Looking up at him, you said, “Is he right? Do we choose each other over other people? Are we doomed?” You laughed to hide the pain, but Jake was still. He had shifted so one hand was pressed above your head against the door frame as you leaned back against the white wood.

“Diana said the same thing to me the other night,” he replied softly. “And the truth is, Bubs. If it came down to it, yes. I’d choose you.”

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#jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #natasha phoenix trace #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #hangman x oc #jake x oc #jake seresin x oc

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theweirderstuffblogdontlook · 1 year

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A short one shot fic about Bob’s disguise as Barbra.

Check it out under the readmore.

Alright, moment of truth. Time to see if all the practice and costume tweaking would pay off.

While the possession amulets were extremely handy for going out in public without anyone getting suspicious.

Since when Bob hid inside her, he was totally hidden from the world. And when she was hidden in Bob, so long as no one saw them switch, their association with each other would be similarly hidden.

It had been getting increasingly clear that this "only one of them existing at a time" thing was not without its own inconveniences.

In particular, feeding into Bobs cabin fever.

Cabin fever makes him want to go out more.

And going out more means more cannibal serial killing.

She doesn't have access to drugs or jail bars to hold him. Her capacity to protect people from him is painfully limited.

So she's been trying to get creative with the damage control.

So came the idea for Barbra.

And the disguise has been made, and the acting has been practiced. The backstory, hopefully memorized.

Now all that was left was a test run.

They parked the truck in front of a small, nowhere sort of bar. Place where there shouldn't be many people, generally a bit more rough and tumble group without super easy targets, and especially no kids that could get caught in the crossfire.

Though her mind and nerves were still buzzing with everything that could go wrong.

"Alright, tell me again the number one rule of this whole scheme."

Bob rolled his eyes from under his sunglasses, but was more amused at her stressing out than annoyed.

"Don't try huntin or hurtin people while playin Barbra."

"Right. If you act suspicious as Barbra, it puts both of us at risk, because people can use me to track down the house to catch us unawares. Then we're either in prison or on the run with no money. Or possibly dead if someone tracks us down who doesn't care to take you in alive."

They start walking towards the bar as she continues.

"So remember, you're Barbra Freeman, a butch lesbian truck driver, but you got in a car accident awhile ago, and had been recovering for a few months. You're wearing sunglasses even while indoors cus the accident left you with a light sensitivity. Just, smalltalk, and not being suspicious."

"Sugarcube, I spent years playin innocent with nobody suspecting a thing. I know how to play nice."

"Yeah and that was awhile ago and you're clearly years out of practice, because in all the time I've known you, you've just been a deeply weird and unsettling person.

Also you're in public in costume Barb, Use the Barbra voice, don't break character."

Already she was losing confidence in Bob's ability to follow the plan. Though Bob, if anything, seemed overconfident. He switches up his tone to a more feminine sounding one, snaking an arm over her shoulders and teasing.

"Right, I'm supposed to be your hot piece of arm candy today. Well, I wouldn't want to deprive ya of a bit of extra time alone with your girlfriend."

She had liked how he hadn't had any problem with disguising himself as a woman. After all it'd be a pretty big insult to write off your whole gender as something gross and embarrassing. Though him being a bit too into it is something her asexual antisocial ass doesn't really know what to do with.

Least beyond getting embarrassed by it. Which in turn gets a chuckle out of Bob.

They head in, and Bob confidently goes to take a seat at the bar, while she takes a moment to nervously scope the place out. There were a few people, not too crowded, not to empty. And they don't seem to be turning many heads.

Before going and taking a seat next to him.

Where Bob puts his arm back around her to mumbles in her ear.

"Loosen up honeymuffin, or you'll be the one making us look suspicious."

Yeah, he's right. They're supposed to at least be friends. Even in a relationship in order to explain away if Bob gets too affectionate.

She tries taking a deep breath and calming down.

Just order something nonalcoholic and chill for awhile. Try to make some small talk.

Despite how terrible she is at small talk in general.

Though Bob was already well aware of her not being the chatty sort. So he takes more the lead for talking with the bartender, and with her.

Though really that more ends up with him teasing her while she tries not to look too embarrassed.

At least Bob could do a pretty convincing imitation of a tough middle aged southern woman though.

Still a relatively deep voice, but not so overt that it couldn't be passed off as "Barbra" having just being a big woman who used to smoke.

She had the feeling he'd gotten some first hand experience learning a number of nuances, and was probably doing an impression of female relatives or family friends or something from his past.

Probably from where he'd gotten his own accent, but she didn't like to pry.

And if she did, now wouldn't be the time for it.

Her head was still on a swivel, despite her attempts to keep it casual. It was hard not to be paranoid. Too many things that could go wrong. Bob was keeping up a conversation with the bartender, so might be a good time to stretch her legs a bit.

"I'll be right back, don't get too crazy without me Barb."

"Heh, you got it darlin."

She went to the back, and thankfully the women's bathroom was empty, so she took a moment to try and calm her nerves and catch her breath.

It's one thing to be around Bob, worrying what he might do. But it was another to put on a cheerful facade on top of that, instead of being her usual irritable self.

She really didn't want to go back out there, and her mood is only worsened as she mentally scolds herself for her hesitancy.

It's unpleasant, but this is the better of her options. The longer she can keep Bob busy the less time he'll have for killing.

Come on.

Get back out there.

You have to supervise the serial killer. This is your idea he's going along with.

Just gotta have him keep his word. Shouldn't be that hard.

And even if it is, no amount of discomfort is worth an innocent persons life.

Suck it up.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and tried smiling. It didn't last long before her face quickly sunk

"Uggh, this is what I get for not putting any effort in with those customer service jobs when I had the chance."

Maybe she can still keep attention away from Bob and not clue people in that she's basically a hostage, while still acting like a miserable unpleasant person who'd rather eat gravel than chit-chat about the weather or the news or some shit.

She leaves the bathroom.

“!!!!” Shit!! Someone's gone to sit with Bob! Looks like some kind of biker guy, on the big and tall side, kinda weathered looking. The kind of guy who could probably take care of himself. Her panic spikes nonetheless.

Ok, calm down, he's out in public, he's gonna talk to some people. It's expected. Doesn't mean the worst is gonna happen yet.

Sure he can always just overpower her if he decides to change his mind and not go along with the plan. But that hasn't happened yet.

She goes to sit down at the bar, on the other side of Bob, not interrupting his conversation with the biker guy. Just quietly listening. Supervising.

And…. Dang this dude really is just outright flirting with Bob. Guy must be into large women.

And Bobs rolling with it. Just liking the attention and teasing the biker guy back.

Well, it's better than Bob getting offended, and he's having fun with it, so this is probably fine so long as it doesn't go anywhere.

And she expects that this is a pretty solid bit of evidence that the Barbra disguise is working. So guess the experiment is a success. They could probably be seen in more crowded locations without people recognizing Bob.

Get him out wasting time doing random stuff so he's too busy to stalk victims.

Uggh, this means she'll have to get out of the house more to do random stuff too and - HOLY SHIT BIKER GUY JUST ASKED BOB OUT.

She'll have to mourn the loss of her weird hermit life later, because NO WAY IS SHE LETTING BOB TAKE THIS GUY TO NO SECONDARY LOCATION!!!!

Shit! How the heck is she supposed to play this off??? Uuuuuuuggghhhh this is gonna be so embarrassing.

She puts on a pissed off face and threatens.

"Excuse me pal, that's my girlfriend you're hitting on, and believe fucking me, this…"

She gestures up and down at Bob.

"This lady right here is a lot more than you're prepared to deal with. Come on Barbra."

She grabs Bob by the hand and starts tugging him towards the door, to which Bob smiles and lets himself be led out, while the biker guy just looks kinda flabbergasted at what just happened as they quickly leave the bar.

She walks for a moment, heading towards the truck, still holding onto Bobs hand.

Before Bob interrupts her anxious mood, saying in his normal voice, though with an additional low suggestive tone layered on, rather than his Barbra affect.

"Yuh know, I think I like you gettin jealous over me for a change."

Her face goes red. And she lets go of Bobs hand.

"Shut up Barb, it's not jealousy and you know it. I just didn’t want you hurting that man."

Bob grabs her hand again to pull her into a hug.

"Fightin over me for other reasons ain't half bad either."

#bob velseb #spooky month #inner demon #Possession #yandere

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variousqueerthings · 5 months

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I am an idiot with a box and a screwdriver, passing through, helping out, learning. I don’t need an army

Dark Water/Death In Heaven -- we're doing it as a double episode single-review, because it's one continuous story. It also wraps up a lot of the thematic threads of season eight and finally reveals that *gasp* it was the Master all along! (I genuinely do not remember if people were taken by surprise back in the day, I never watched this far at that time, and obviously I knew when I finally did)

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 6/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 6/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 3/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 5/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 5/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 5/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 6/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 4/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 4/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 2/10

FULL RATING: 46/100 (if I can count….)

the real issue with the plot of the finale, as I see it is actually solidly in the field of "pacing." there's some other stuff (I'll get into what I think about fulfilling character arcs and concepts about soldiers below), but pacing is the throughline as we take a look at various themes and arcs and whether they were sufficiently wrapped up

EDIT: this one is quite long because it also partially covers the whole season + I rant about the military

OBJECTIFICATION: oooof the four women in this finale, Clara, Kate, Osgood, and Gomez!Master, we technically don't get this much, however I do think it's interesting that M*ffat's Master is... called... Missy....

which I will not be doing, because I hate it. you see she's "Mistress" because she's a woman now, but no nonono, she needs a cutesy version of it, so it's "Missy," she's like the sexy dom you always dreamed of (just like Irene and River and several single-episode characters...)

at least he didn't dress her in leather

it's also hard to designate whether the way he writes her is so off from the way Simm!Master was written, because he for sure had a bunch of "I'm just Cu-raaazyy" moments. also he used bigotry as a casual hammer, which I'd be curious to talk with RTD about. I don't think he'd do that the same way if he were writing those episodes today, anyway, wrong era

Gomez!Master, in these episodes, has some really really stellar moments. she also has moments that make me go, "ah yes, this is a woman written by M*ffat," most noticeably in some of her one-sided "flirting" with the Doctor. again, it's hard to pinpoint, because a lot of it is just "yeah they're unhinged about each other and have been forever," but some of the "ooh Doctor I'm doing all of this for you," stuff is... it just feels like they can do that because of het Nonsense now (which I will get into in the "sexiness" point)

like she can be softer now (in a Master way) because she's portrayed by a woman opposite Capaldi's Doctor, which I think the "short for Mistress" moment is the most prime example of

I do also think though, this is (you guessed it) partially a pacing issue, because they didn't insert Gomez!Master into the main narrative until the second-to-last episode. if we could have seen her in some material way doing something prior to that -- but wait, Simm!Master also only appeared properly in the second-to-last episode, yes, correct, but Simm!Master was materially affecting the narrative from very early on, and not in a somewhat random "I gave you a number to call for a helpline that turned out to be the Tardis and also I'm sort of sitting around waiting for the plot to catch up with me" setup, but in a "I'm monitoring your family, I'm fucking with the government" kind of way -- there was even a musical cue that included the four beats that recurred so that we could connect that to the overarching story of mind-control

I'm going to get back to this in complexity, because we're getting off-point. Point is the jump from where we left off to where we find Gomez!Master being a bit lovey-dovey (again, in a Master way) just wasn't there and I feel like M*ffat thought he could do it this way because of course now they're played by a man and a woman... hypothesis. theory, if you will. Charlie Day Corkboard meme perhaps. but M*ffat would never have done this if the Master were played by a guy, looking at his track record. he might have done it if the Doctor were played by a woman, but I think the real issue there would have been how incredibly porn-opening-adjacent his Doctor/Master interactions would have become, so that's a different sort of lesbophobic bullet dodged

like, I'll take more explicit Master/Doctor stuff. but I'm fucking watching you M*ffat, youknow.

PLOT-POINT: Clara is not a plot-point in this episode, however I do think the pacing of Stuff hits her quite hard. we had a slowish build-up of her and Danny over the episodes, although fascinatingly he never really got to have proper feelings about the acres of lies she'd told him -- she was working up to telling him about it properly, but he got hit by a car before she could

this brings up a Thing about Clara, which is that she makes a loooot of bad decisions that prioritise her own current wants over what's good for her and/or people around her, and I doooo think that's intentional -- she has a line in this episode where she says to Danny, "I wasn’t very good at it, but I did love you"

now season 9 might deal with the guilt of the above, so there may be things to come, but there was certainly a lot of confusion on my side about what her journey was going to be about, and so far it seems to be a very unhealthy "I am owed things" rather than about running away from something tangible or feeling overwhelmed from life

there is the original idea that it was her mother's death that prompted her to want to travel, but something always got in the way, and that this (for example taking care of two kids whose mother died recently) indicates that she's a "good" person who cares for others -- and she doesn't not care, but it's certainly not her driving character trait in the way that it seemed to look like when Eleven met her properly and gauged her as a person who could be a companion

this is all very waffly, because I'm still not sure where Clara lands in all of this, or if I think it works in the grand scheme of things, especially in tandem with the other characterisations and themes of this season. it's got a very depressing, hopeless sort of framing to it that in other contexts I might be really into, but I may not enjoy for Doctor Who

that being said... it's consistent throughout the season. Clara sees the Doctor's red flags (and we'll get to those) and provided the ending is okay and she can control the Doctor and her own role in the situation, she's okay with the idea that people get used along the way -- as long as the Doctor doesn't try that on her

in this episode of course Clara threatens to (and makes good on that promise, even if it doesn't work) destroy the Tardis keys, stranding them both on a volcano, rails against the ordinariness of grief and feels that she is owed something more, shuts down Danny's attempts to say that he loves her, because it's not on her terms (granted, these terms are "please just accept that I'm dead," but that is kind of the point with Clara and her sense of controlling things, even death), then decides to be the one to kill Danny properly as a Cyberman, despite the Doctor explaining that Cyber-Danny will kill others, and then is fully intending to just straight up kill the Master!!!!

this is wild to me -- back in s3, when Francine and the entire Jones family are prepared to see the Master dead, it's because he destroyed the earth and made them watch and kept them as slaves for a year

in this episode, Clara wants to kill the Master because she did bad things that, yes, prolonged the sadness of Danny's death, but crucially did not actually cause Danny's death. Danny just... died. yeah, there's probably theories out there that the Master might have caused it (we'll get to this too), but this is never textual in the episode, and Clara never gives an indication that that's her belief

she's just angry that the Master is a bad person who did bad things, as concept. and mostly she's angry because her boyfriend is dead, and as far as I can see, the Doctor is now off the hook (whereas at the beginning the Doctor was very much on the hook) and the Master is the closest person around to take that anger out on

bonkers for a companion to be this way. again, Martha, my beloved Martha, Osterhagen key back in the day, she's not doing this out of anger, she's having a straight-up bad time and the whole tragedy is about the Doctor accidentally turning companions into soldiers. they've got guns and everything. Clara just bypasses this and is simply down for murder because she's upset

at the end of course she elects to not tell the Doctor about Danny's sacrifice/still being dead, because she thinks the Doctor would stay rather than return to Gallifrey (which may not be found after all, because the Doctor lies to her about that too), which is quite self-sacrificial of her. we'll see where this sentiment goes, especially as it's another lie, which is kind of their whole... thing with one another. terrible terrible for one another, which I know is the appeal for their fans, so I'm not necessarily writing this as critique

I am reminded of the Doctor and Martha again, who also had a whole unhealthy thing going on, but it was very based in the narrative and had a specific trajectory and then an ending that acknowledged this as a reason for Martha no longer wishing to travel with them (and then some things I have questions about, RTD bring Martha back I'm not satisfied!)

in this story, it feels like this is simply who Clara is. and while it does contradict some of her earlier narrative in s7, I can accept that it's consistent now. but yeah... as said, there's some plotting and pacing inconsistencies. where are the kids from before (I know she stopped taking care of them, but one feels like they had no tangible impact on the story), why was Danny's death written in the way it was (we'll get to that), where did some of her s7 characterisation go (I really missed a Clara who wasn't just smart and quippy, but was also scared and out of her depth), is this because she "knows" a lot of the Doctor lore now, so she feels like she belongs more in this world than other people? why was she in love with Danny, to the point of wanting to go to a possible afterlife to get him back (actually this is a big one, because while they did have scenes together, I don't know what drew her to him, and I have some feelings about Danny down in the politics section of this, which somewhat can be boiled down to "he gives me the vibes of a man who is kind and sensitive and easily used and Clara likes to use people so...")

like I said- it's not that Clara doesn't make sense for who she is now, but that the pacing and structure don't support her arc very well. I don't think this is the worst thing to happen to a female character during M*ffat's run, but it does make this finale less emotionally fulfilling than it clearly wants to be

am I sad that Danny is dead? yeah, but not because of Clara. I'm sad because of his unrealised potential as a character. am I shocked that Clara wanted to shoot the Master? yes, but because it was a Bonkers Yonkers bit of characterisation on top of some already wild things she did which any past Doctor I think would have said "ok, you are not suitable for this kind of life, because you are way too down with murder and have no emotional stability." When Clara left the Doctor, I was kinda like. yeah, ok, she could end this here I guess (I say that, and acknowledge that actually the Christmas Special right after gives her a bit more depth on the whole "Danny Dying Sitch" of things, although again, it does not make me think she should be continuing to travel with the Doctor, never mind be working with UNIT in s9????)

ok. but. pacing. let's get to it

COMPLEXITY: ok the problem with this episode is not technically complexity, although it does fall for a couple of M*ffat standards in that it didn't need to be doing some of the things it is doing (the cremation stuff I think is particularly unsettling in a needless way that I think crosses a line, but that is possibly subjective)

the problem is the questions I was asking in the previous sections and a whole bunch more, that shows that all of the themes and questions that were set up throughout the season weren't paced well or satisfactorily concluded

take one that I like: The Master. big fan of Gomez' portrayal of The Master barring a few things that are very M*ffat female character, with a dash of his Moriarty (so youknow the drill if you've ever spent too long engaging with a M*ffat narrative), but that's not her, that's just her having to make a "hey Missy you're so fine" dialogue work

I mentioned it was odd that she was so sidelined and just... hanging around... until the second-to-last episode. I am unclear why she "chose" Clara to travel with the Doctor, first of all. I cannot remember if this is answered in the episode, beyond like "the Universe and fate and shit" which I'm not a fan of if so. second of all... why didn't she kill Danny? (EDIT: did read there's a short story that confirmed she did kill Danny, but we're going purely by episodes here)

if we want to go big, say, why wasn't there a big, slow reveal that she'd been poking around in Clara's life, maybe also Danny's life who knows, and that she was giving all of these things to the Doctor as a gift by using humans as puppets culminating in Danny's death and this is what sets Clara off? the idea that she once again is just playing to the tune of a larger narrative that she has no control over and worse, isn't even about her, but about this fucked up dynamic between these two incredibly old aliens

I'm sure some people like the randomness of Danny's death. I personally do not. I think it's contrived angst that comes out of nowhere in the same way so much of M*ffat's narrative tends to do. why is this happening now? because we need the story to go there and we forgot to place 90% of the establishing building blocks that make it feel organic -- the worst offender for this in my opinion is still the "Amy grew up with River as her best friend the whole time, you just didn't know," but this is a pretty bad example in my opinion too, because on the surface it is very very sad, and the randomness of death is a great idea... but hey, remember when they did that story in 2005 with Rose's dad and it was really good and established and played into the overarching themes of her story? this is not that. this is using sadness as a cheap device

there's like. a story in here that is really really good, and it gets buried underneath a bunch of contrived over-the-top stuff (although, while I initially thought the "president of the earth" stuff was bad, and still kind of do, I did think it was funny that the Doctor mocked the Master about all those times they tried to rule the world and the Doctor managed it by accident)

I also -- and I'm sure many people have noticed this too -- cannot help but go, "oh isn't this just the Library plot but evil? and with a worse/less believable set of scifi nonsense explanations?" and that's such a M*ffat classic too. use three or four good (and sometimes not good) ideas over and over again, but bigger and more unwieldy

Ohhhh boy the idea of the Brigadier becoming a Cyberman, because all of earth - no wait, more than earth, some of the people who end up there aren't on earth - for the last x amount of years has just been sucked into the evil Library database. (seriously, tell me how this works, because it works across Time and Space apparently??) -- anyway billions? trillions? of people becoming Cybermen. I don't think this is explained either. I am not a fan of the Brigadier becoming a Cyberman, let's say that

none of the core scifi stuff is explained beyond a handwave, and none of the emotional arcs are given a satisfying conclusion but!

listen Michelle Gomez is so cool, I relish the future when I know she's getting better dialogue

also in theory I like the callback to the "I win" in s3. we know the Doctor doesn't kill her, but yeah, him going "you win." they're such weirdos about each other, truly. again, with all of the rest of the "stuff" this season, the poor pacing, the scrape-the-surface-and-it's-cheap-sentimentality I don't think it entirely works, but hey, Gomez will return so!

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: Danny is dead. the Master is Michelle Gomez (and not dead). the Doctor is slightly? more chill in themself (maybe, idk, going by the following episode, maybe not). Gallifrey is still lost. I think that covers it?

also the Doctor just straight-up wasn't looking for Gallifrey this whole time it seems

COMPANIONS MATTER: Clara does some things in this one. notably, not a single thing she does works, but for the ways they work because the Doctor and/or Danny care about her so so much, which I think is at the heart of all of this -- if you (the audience) believe that the Doctor and Danny have so much affection and/or love for Clara that despite her behaviour they would go to the afterlife for her, they would break cyber-coding for her, then this works

if you don't believe this, then we're in trouble.

things Clara does: aforementioned attempted destruction of Tardis key, attempting to save Danny from death, passing herself off as the Doctor, killing Danny, killing the Master

I thiiiink... that covers it. within this she does convince the Doctor to take her to the afterlife, and Danny saves her life a few times

I want to note the "Clara pretends to be the Doctor" moment, because I think it's a good example of some of the flattening of her character. in her earlier entries in s7 she was afraid at times. now, obviously, like the other companions she's seen more, she's more confident, but she is still in very real danger -- contrasting with Rose in Doomsday and how she taunts the Daleks, she's still very very afraid, she's sure they're all going to die

and I think Rose in Army of Ghosts/Doomsday is the closest to Clara out of previous companions I've seen (not counting Classic Who which I haven't finished). by that point she's seen so much that her mother comments that she doesn't seem like herself anymore (I wish Clara's grandmother had made a similar observation -- or at least some kind of observation). she knows a bunch of DW lore, she loves the travel for the sake of it, she feels, yeah, special (although with the caveat that she's met previous companions, the Doom hangs over them all season, we know this is about to end one way or another)

I just sat there the whole time thinking, "why is the director not asking JLC to put more emotion into her voice, more doubt, more desperation, just... more. why is this scene so flat?"

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the Doctor is a headless chicken in this one, except for the fact that he's like "yeah we'll go to the afterlife" and then promptly goes "there is no afterlife, this is stupid."

it's a small thing on the whole, but hey, Doctor, you're the one who decided to go there

as for the Doctor as a seasons-arc roundup. I... don't hate it... but I still don't like how this Doctor is characterised. he's still incredibly unlikeable just on a personal level, and yeah yeah good doesn't mean nice, but he's also just not kind. and I think I struggle to enjoy an iteration of the Doctor who isn't kind, at least sometimes

I think a lot of that -- the unkindness -- falls to the wayside as a concept in this episode, because idk, it's not important I guess? whereas I think it's central to the Doctor's question of "am I good"? are you good because you try to make people not-die, sure, but you're also good because you don't mock kids. you don't casually state that you've forgotten peoples faces because they're so forgettable/unimportant to you. you don't treat people poorly that know they're about to die

if that stuff -- that domestic stuff, as Nine might have called it -- isn't important to the question, then I don't think the question is being satisfactorily answered by this episode

yes, Twelve turns down the chance to have a literal army that could just kill all bad guys, but I never doubted that. does Twelve treat others with kindness? Mmmm still not really, going by the episode right after. it's a fun little exploration of something absolutely wild the Master might try, but I don't think it tells me anything new about the Twelfth Doctor

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: ok, I'm sure some people loved some of these callbacks. The Brigadier. the Cybermen outside St Pauls.

did like Osgood saying that Simm!Master prime-minister wasn't even the worst one we've had. that ages ever more hilariously

I just don't think the plot is good enough for a lot of them. and as an ending to the Brigadier well... ok, I liked it better than way back (s6) the Doctor receives a random phonecall that the Brigadier is dead and it's apropos nothing and Kate Stewart hadn't been introduced yet, so it was just some random guy that the old fans knew, but the nu fans would have been ??? about, because why does this guy dying drive the plot like that? I liked that the Brigadier has context

of course that context is, your brain was uploaded to a computer database for years and now you're fully a cyberman -- and it's not framed as super tragic? it's another one of the ways the emotional Stuff falls flat in this episode, and I just choose to pretend it's not something that happens

“SEXINESS”: M I S S Y... short for Mistress... because we need to gender this now. Anyway, the first time this character meets the Doctor in this form, she forcibly grabs him and kisses him without his consent (afterwards Clara smirks and asks if she used tongue)

so that is... that is a thing that happens. that is a thing that has happened a lot on this show, both to Ten and Eleven, but not to Twelve until now, because I guess women only humorously throw themselves at twinks

when will our suffering end?? why is this considered funny???? Stop!!!

she also at one point says "you know I should shoot you in a jealous rage, now wouldn’t that be sexy," which was one thing I was alluding to with the "where does writing the Master as kind of fucked up end and writing the Master as a Crazy Evil Sexy Lady begin" because this is definitely in the latter category

INTERNAL WORLD: is this just the Silence of the Library but evil and less believable? yes. does it make sense that they could magically put all those minds back into reconstructed Cyberbodies on top of corpses, including people who must have been dead for centuries, or died in the future not even on earth? don't think about it

POLITICS: So, you know how this season is all about the Doctor and soldiers and "am I a good man" and Danny was a soldier and calls the Doctor an officer, and on the plus-side we have the Doctor's speech about not being a good man or an officer or anything like that, but just "some fuckn guy" (paraphrased, he actually calls himself an idiot)

on the flipside of that we have... Danny. oh Danny. I. so I really want to like Danny, and I actually do like Danny, I think he's the most underserved character of the season, in the sense that everyone else being written to be an asshole just makes it shine through that he is... not. and his whole thing is that he feels guilty about having shot a kid in Afghanistan and that's what made him leave the military, because... it felt bad, I guess

I write that, because Danny didn't leave the army because he didn't agree with their politics anymore. despite having a bunch of lines derogatorily calling the Doctor "sir," and flipping shit like "watch the blood-soaked general in action" there's never actually a story of Danny realising a superior officer was using his power to hurt anyone, and he never questions that having been there in the first place, in a position to shoot a child, might have been the bad thing

he's not railing against superiors, he's just railing, which is frustrating when it's so close to getting it right. it seemed like they might be going there for awhile, there was a hot second where I thought they might, but at the end he firmly re-identifies himself as a soldier and shoots himself and the other Cybermen into the sky to save the planet. it's so... oooh it's so [flames on the side of my head]

he does send the kid back, rather than himself, which circles back to my thinking about Danny the character (kind, compassionate, sensitive) and Danny as keeper of certain themes (that it's not the system of soldiering that's bad, in fact we need to defend ourselves, see Doctor, your black and white narrative about soldiers as related to any guilt you might feel about having once killed people, or making situations happen where people die or or, is false, because it's more complicated than that, and soldiers are a good thing actually -- no, we haven't actually made a narrative about systems of soldiering, we've conflated freedom-fighting against a fictional fascist-coded alien with the British army, it's the same thing in the end)

it makes me want to -- in that oh-so-silly fandom way -- take Danny away from the writers and look back at his core traits: he's an orphan who by the sounds of things was never adopted, so in a place of being easily groomed by a structure like the army, he believes in the inherent goodness of people (I think), like I said, kind, compassionate, sensitive, lovely to kids, clearly suffers from PTSD (of course), and... in my opinion eaaasily misused by others, because he judges things to be solely on his shoulders

because Clara is a very forceful personality, I can sooo easily see how he'd be taken with her and want to forgive her over and over again and sacrifice himself for her

I wish that Danny's storyline had been about realising his worth. not his worth as a fucking soldier, but just "oh, I've been scared my whole life, I've had to do what others told me my whole life, and now this is my choice." I mean, the sacrificing is still... sigh (I do remember seeing people pointing out that great, we introduce a Black recurring character and then yeet him into the sky once his use is up, vs, say Rory who is there from beginning to end)

(I actually like Danny better than Rory on the whole, but I also think Danny and Rory have a lot of similar traits, and they both fall in love with women who have treated them abysmally, but at least Clara understands this as a part of her arc, both in the final episode of this and the subsequent Christmas episode)

but at least it wouldn't have been a sacrifice in which he reinserts himself as a cog in a machine. fucking soldier. please Danny, you deserve more from this thematic journey. if we'd had a narrative about an abusive or simply bad or incompetent or idealistically incompatible officer, this would have made more sense, but instead we just get vague references that go nowhere

ok I'm writing in circles now, so let's drop this and talk about the kid he shoots, whom he meets in the "afterlife" (argh this whole concept is so stupid) and I guess just... sits with? until he scares him away. and then sends him back to life again

there's something poignant in that to an extent, it's just of course that this random unnamed kid from Afghanistan who says not a line is a prop to absolve Danny of his personal guilt at shooting a child, and, again, not really about the nature of British colonialism and military violence

now oof, those are some heavy themes to bring up, can we expect all this from a silly show like Doctor Who? well, M*ffat did, he just wasn't able to follow through. heavy themes aren't shock value, you'd better be a good enough writer to do something with them, or idk, not want to suck the British army's dick

ooh, that was a bit aggressive on my part. I think because season eight actually has so much interesting stuff it's playing with, so this time I could finally see Stuff, but then the payoff was just a disappointing slap. RIP Danny, in my heart you had character development this season that went into all of the interesting narrative threads that were introduced, and you became a passionate speaker for not grooming kids into joining the army

the TL;DR of this point is "soldiers good sometimes. check mate Pacifist" -- but similar to Kill The Moon, it's so messy I'm not sure it actually knows what it wants to say

FULL RATING: 46/100 (if I can count….)

I feel like not everyone would agree with me, but I like the Master's overall plan. it fits with the wildly swinging way they try to win the Doctor over, just to lash out when the Doctor (understandably) turns them down, while also pinpointing the little hypocrisies of the Doctor's morals, because the Master keeps offering the ability to Change Things and the Doctor prefers little shifts of the status quo that often mean people get left behind or get hurt or it's much messier than a clean sweep of "if you just ruled the Universe with me, we'd do good things"

(the Doctor is of course right to go "yeahno, this is not a good idea, for starters we both have so many issues, for seconds anyone who sets out to be a good ruler of anything has already failed because of the premise"). it's the strongest part of the episodes for me, I just wish it had had a more satisfying build-up and been able to tie in better to the themes of the season (or rather that the themes of the season had been written better in previous episodes so as to tie in better with this wrapping-up)

and obviously the whole "soldier" stuff is just badly written

and Clara...? I'll wait and see in her final season. it's very much a "depends on how they round it off" for me

also, oh boy am I done with quips. the Wh*donesque quipping is doing my head in, please make it stooop

"One last chance. I don’t care about the rules, I don’t give a damn about paradoxes, I swear you will never step inside your Tardis again" <- this is Villain Behaviour Clara!!!!

#im watching nu!who #im watching capaldi who #episode dark water #episode death in heaven #the measurement #theres so much more i didnt cover tbh my energy for this is low rn

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vinvantae · 2 years

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Hey there lovey! How are you? I was wondering (if you're comfy with it though) that danny ric calls reader "mommy" to see her reaction or where they're just chilling and all cuddly on their family vacation. Butttt I hope you're okay, and you're doing fine. Just found your page, so I'm going to read your stories. Please,remember to stay hydrated and you are love <3 enjoy the rest of your day/night. Btw if it's not too much for you...do you have any f1 stories? (Daniel,Lando,Charles,Carlos,Max, Pierre and ofc sir Lewis Hamilton.)..if it's too much for you, I completely understand.

Hey I’ve gone down a jokey route with this as I don’t write anything nsfw, if you wanted something more along those lines that may I suggest @safetycar-restart !! Also I’m English so I’m gonna put it as Mummy Cus the American spelling hurts my soul 😅

And I do have other F1 stuff, you can find it here on my Masterlist at the top of my page.

****************************************************

I Take It Back!

You stepped out onto the balcony and stretched your arms above your head as you stepped outside, the sun was warm and the sky was clear. You’d treated yourself to a lie in but as you saw your husband laying face down on a lounger you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Daniel, did you remember to put on suncream?” You said, raising a brow as he lifted his head to look over at you - using a hand to block out the sun.

“No…”

“You’re gonna burn, get out of the sun until you have it on.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

The two of you shared each other down for a moment before an evil grin took over your face and you began to march towards him, he waved his hands in protest. Realising his mistake.

“I’m sorry! I take it back!” He laughed, as you grabbed a towel off the back of one of the chairs.

You launched yourself at him and wrapped him up in a tight cocoon. “Don’t worry, baby! Let mummy wrap you up nice and cosy!”

He squirmed in protest but you managed to swaddle him in the towel and he glared at you as you sat over him. “Not funny.”

“Oh it’s pretty funny. You started this.” You smirked, grabbing the suncream. “Now, let mummy cream you up. Stay nice and still.”

The Australian’s eyes widened as you squirted an ungodly amount of suncream into your hand.

“Y/n!” He whined, not being able to hold back the laughter as you playfully smacked a handful of suncream onto his cheek.

“Gotta make sure the little baby doesn’t burn, hold sti-aaaahh!”

Without warning, he managed to break free from his towel prison and tackle you into the pool, suncream going everywhere. “Hey! What was that about, mummy was just-“

“Oh stop it.” He chuckled, kissing you softly. “I’m supposed to be the funny one here.”

“Gotta get payback some how, haven’t I?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and stroking the wet curls at the nape of his neck. “Because it’s definitely not the same if I call you Daddy is it?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times and you laughed.

“Thought so.” You cooed, giving him a gentle kiss.

“I love you, silly girl.”

“I love you too.”

************

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booksandchainmail · 1 year

Text

Pale 2.9

So excited to see the Forest Ribbon Trail.

oh gods i love this opossum. do the animal companions always talk, or that a opossum-specific trait

It was a kid, no older than eight, possibly younger, with messy blond hair, a jacket, a top, and bare feet.

oh no. Do boon companions always appear as humans, you'd think someone would note that on the instructions! Is that part of why you're supposed to ask not remember?

she wore an adult-sized t-shirt that came to her knees, black. It was printed with ‘I have class, I have sass, I scream at own ass’.

I love this opossum

“In the practitioner and Other sense, not the ordinary sense. You’ve never bled or tasted blood?” “I have. Both,” the girl said.

welp. don't think we have any details on what that means

“What story is this? All things Other have some roots in the annals of man,” the baby opossum said. “Fairy tales, fantasy stories, myths, religions, and urban religions. There are no original stories. So I ask you… what kind of story is this? Don’t jump to the obvious answer. Give me a good answer and I’ll tell you something you should know.”

Hmm. My first thought is Little Red Riding Hood (traveling through forest with a wolf at the end). But also, in more general terms, classic fairy tale story: you go on a journey, have an animal companion to aid you, pick up strange tools that will help you later, and face down a monster at the end. I'm also reminded of the Babylon sequence from Diana Wynne Jones's book Deep Secret, but I don't think that's what they're going for.

It's also really hard to tell how much of what's going on is normal for the Forest Ribbon Trail, and how much is about the animal blood fuckup (I checked the instructions and there were no notes about what happens in that case). I do not trust the roadside opossum though.

I thought it would be more cut and dry but it’s only constant confusion, a strange place with strange people.

well now I am thinking Alice in Wonderland

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Avery said. “That’s it, right?” “A bit of Wizard of Oz, with the yellow brick road, or the Path. A lot of Alice in Wonderland,” Avery said.

hey!

There was a giant doll head, the girl who carried the other opossum, the normal man, and the whispering cat.

Cat... cheshire cat? or maybe cowardly lion? who else is in Alice in Wonderland: Mad Hatter, March Hare, Dormouse, Caterpillar, Queen? Or is the thing that isn't supposed to be here whatever's causing the thumping?

This is the second reality you have to face, as part of your journey along this trail. The world is bleak, terrible things happen, and you cannot fix it, whether you are a thirteen year old girl or a master practitioner in her seventies.

hmmm. People keep talking as if the coin is the object that lets you bring some of the Lost back, but the instructions in the Extra Materials say that's the skull. Not sure if this is authorial error, or if Avery is misremembering and the Others are cuing off of her.

She was supposed to come to terms with something about herself, like Alice and growing up, or Dorothy and the idea of home. Every single trap so far had been marked by indecision. Hesitation. Even her boon companion evoked it.

yeah! character development

A glamour, to bring out her best self. But to capture it, she needed to chase it first. Mark it like warpaint, worn after the battle. After she was sweaty from a game well played. After she was brave. After she was noble. It stressed that she had to decide who and what she wanted to be, then solidify it.

brave and noble...

“Nicolette Belanger?” Avery asked.

oh shit

“The gimmick. The opossum. It plays dead even when it doesn’t mean to, fainting. Deceives when it doesn’t mean to. It says the opposite of what it means to, but it can deceive well enough to bring a token item into the Wolf’s negotiation.”

oh... so when she said she didn't like the name Avery gave her...

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow #this one got long

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henrioo · 1 month

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I’m actually so slow it should be a condition cus this was my thought process.

Oh someone liked my post that’s nice… don’t I follow that person- mutual? Maybe it’s a different person *realized it’s you* WHY ARE WE MUTUALS!?!!????? Was so shocked and happy 💙

I don't get

We aren't supposed to be mutuals? We are mutual some time actually

I followed u some time ago I don't even remember but probably some weeks I guess

I'm always following male blogs actually

Especially if they read my stories

If I saw you reading my stories with some good frequency I probably going to follow you

I follow a lot of my followers and readers

I like :)) makes me happy to see that some male blogs are always here with me

Also is good because for me you guys are all my friends so I'm happy for having a lot of male readers

I like to follow you guys because I want to be close to the community, so yeah it's not hard see me following some of you heheheh :))

Also everyone is free to talk to me too, in discord or here, I like chatting about male stories, ideas I have, get more ideas or just making friends

So yeah

Happy mutuals

I actually thought you already have seen that because you boop me and even send an ask so I was like "oh they already knew we are mutuals and we are even interacting cool!"

#henri talk

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viksalos · 8 months

Text

ok anyway i’m gonna draft this cus this might just be me getting mad about a thing that is very specific to me idk

basically i saw a post (and it really doesn’t matter who wrote it cus it’s more than a year old now and it didn’t even break 300 notes) which was making fun of people for claiming to have religious trauma when OP assumed they hadn’t been to X amount of catholic services. this by itself is a bit silly bc catholics gatekeeping religious trauma as being exclusive to them is obviously myopic, but one of the tags was like “you don’t have religious trauma you have ptsd from familial abuse that used religion against you” and im like. i fail to see how that’s not religious trauma?

like i’ve said before on this blog, my religious education was primarily reform jewish via my mom with smatterings of various christian denominations mostly via my dad; you could not measure any amount of “christian religious trauma” i have by continuous service attendance but like yeah my experience of christianity is still primarily one of punishment, alienation, antisemitism, supersessionism. and like sure, my dad is a dipshit who never stuck with anything for very long including going to any one church, so no that trauma does not include X hours of christian education or whatever. but boy oh boy did he still like weaponizing our “christian heritage” when i exhibited any proximity to judaism!

and i also feel like *part of* my difficulty with christianity is specifically not knowing what the fuck christians are talking about when they talk about concepts that are seemingly basic to them and having to piece it together after the fact from the random smattering of things i *do* know. and these concepts are just woven in the fabric of US society; everyone seems to understand them instinctively but me! or like i’ll be talking with my (ex-)christian friends about our various bad run-ins with christianity and then it’ll be my turn to talk and they’ll look at me like i have three heads because they can’t conceive of religious trauma that’s specifically centered around christian antisemitism. or i’ll be talking with my jewish friends and because *they* had a more rigorous or conservative jewish education, i won’t fit in with them either--and this too can be partially due to religious trauma on their part!

i guess the other thing too is, this post was kind of in keeping with a different post i saw about protestants appropriating catholic iconography when trying to make art about *their* religious trauma. and on the one hand it’s funny to me that we’re supposed to care about the trappings of a colonial institution being appropriated, on the other hand it’s funny as an outside observer cus i do think the iconography they listed as examples are more alike between catholicism and protestantism than they are different. like i remember some of the examples were stained glass and gothic churches (protestants also have those; i live in a city with many protestant gothic churches) and multi-eyed and winged angels (those are described in the tanakh; they are not exclusive to either of you).

and like maybe it’s corny but i do think they have become kind of signaling things for people with religious trauma to find each other and talk about their experiences. are these particular symbols necessarily 100% authentic to everyone’s experience? probably not, but 1.) they make cool art, and 2.) the looming and foreboding nature of some of these symbols (i’m thinking of the exteriors of gothic churches especially) can be evocative of the sense of alienation one feels when you’ve definitively decided you no longer want anything to do with the church, but it’s still ever present. imo these types are mad because they want exclusive use of the cool art symbolism more than they want to facilitate community. if you wanted to say that art symbolism is not a solid basis for a community, THAT would be an argument i’d respect, but that’s not what y’all said.

#text #oh i remembered why i'm mad about this. it's pass0ver #idk. the idea that chr1stians are the only ones harmed by chr1stianity just gets under my skin ig!#but like i said i found this on someone's blog who was just hating on a band i like so it's probably not that serious #<- vent post i wrote in april but actually i think i was kinda right about this so i'm gonna post it lol

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lightshadowverisimilitude · 1 year

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Genuine trip as well that he's not only having to give up his title, but also would be getting chosen over all the ladies present - so this gold dragon would have had to ignore all the ladies on the hatching ground, every other potential rider on the hatching ground, march up the stands, and pick him out of the crowd. Probably not just a crowd, but one of the special boxes for the VIPs (I believe I remember those were up higher in the stands...?)*

Ahhhh, I’m remembering a Event that happened in the books, where one of the eggs didn’t hatch and everyone was like, oh well, but a Lord Holder's young son was like wait wait no it’s alive I can hear it, and he jumps into the sand pit and breaks open the egg. It turns out to be a runty white dragon that can neither fight nor mate and so they were like, he can have the dragon and not live in the Weyr and still be a Lord because he was the last of the line or something? Lessa's half brother?

And I also recall there was a Thing in the books where there was no female green riders in the time period (it was forgotten history that there ever were) and during a hatching this little green dragon wouldn’t pick and started trying get away from the boys trying to claim her, and one of the workers named Mirrim tried to boss the boys to get closer to the baby who was then like, ah you! And starts trying to head butt it’s way out to get to her and she’s like?? oh no stop your going to hurt yourself and oops she has a dragon and she’s the first female green rider in like 400 years. And it was the same hatching I think? Very eventful day lol

Back to Marvel tho, the little queen dragon is like, no I want you Lord Stark. Either after a long, heartbreaking event where a queen is seemingly stillborn and then Tony hears it and runs up to help her, or this little lady is “running” amok and making demands and Tony ends up trying to help out and oops. Either way he’s going to get in trouble for “ruining tradition” or “unjustly claiming a queen” or something.

He’s definitely the one that rediscovers the Dragons can Time Travel tho. And he totally improves the flamethrowers to a point where it’s better then the actual fire breathing and that ruffles even more scales. Jan should be the first female rider in an age cus they are the small, quick ones and she’s a trail blazer. Maybe she was supposed to be one of the ones trying to claim the queen Tony got and she gets the green and Tony got the gold oops

Steve being all out of sorts in the future with his Weyr, made up the Howling Commandos I assume, hearing second hand about all the ways Tony’s fucked with how things “should” be and so he’s even more emblematic of all the changes Steve is learning to hate. Plus if he’s a Ults Steve he could be like way more bigoted about a male queen rider, but a MCU Steve would be a more general “I don’t like the way you are doing things Stark”, who would probably be all “ I also have complaints about how I am doing things but that’s a me problem”

https://www.tumblr.com/lightshadowverisimilitude/716799770062176256/re-pern-the-time-travel-thing-was-part-of-og

@eak1mouse and I were just discussing an alternate option being Tony and the Gold egg being kidnapped together (for reasons. Or separately and just ending up in the same place), and the dragon literally hatching in his arms as he's trying to run away with the egg. (*not right now, can't you wait 20 gd minutes are you KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?!?!) And he's just as shocked as anyone when he gets rescued and the dragon is like, "no thank you, I'm plenty fine with mine own companion."

#ladyshadowdrake writes #ask ladyshadowdrake

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wonurchive · 2 years

Text

prologue

pairing: stranger!mingyu x f!reader

genre: fluff, humor(?)

includes cursing, really bad pick up lines, horrible nsfw jokes, intentional lowercase, im sorry :sob:

synopsis: an unknowing, quick trip to the supermarket leads to multiple dates with a tall, funny, hot stranger?

today was really not your day.

you had slept at 7:15- not PM, AM. the blame was to be put on your hectic design job that demanded crazy hours of day. you woke up approximately 4 hours later and decided to have breakfast, brunch at this point, only to find out your fridge was absolutely empty. it was harvesting tumbleweeds at this point. on any other day, you’d go about on an empty stomach but since the universe was against you today, it was the hungriest you’ve felt in your life.

the third obstacle of today was when your phone decided to play hide and seek with you. without your phone, your co-workers had no idea if your part of the assignment was done, your mom doesn’t know if you agreed to the blind date she set up and 3 people on snap are spamming about stupid streaks. fortunately enough, hide and seek only lasts for 30 minutes as you find your phone sandwiched between your pillow and the pillowcase.

8:48am

lovely mother: y/n! remember mrs. choi? the one with the cute dog?? well she and i have been talking and i’d love to see you and her son together

lovely mother: just once, not even as a date! you two could be friends!

lovely mother: how about sunday? i know you have no plans y/n 🙄🙄

lovely mother: hello?!?!?

‘who taught her how to use emojis??’ you sigh to yourself.

y/n: 1. i don’t remember who that is sorry

y/n: 2. STOP SETTING ME UP ON DATES MOM I TOLD YOU LIKE A JILLION TIMES!!

y/n: 3. who taught you how to use emojis?? and who the heck is awake at 8am on a friday?? AND WHO SAID I DON’T HAVE ANY PLANS?!?

you sigh once more, putting your recently found phone into the shallow pocket of your jeans. you decided to go out for breakfast (brunch) to, you know, not starve to absolute death.

you get into the driver’s seat of your mercedes gls 500, which is not a particularly shabby car, you might say so yourself. you got it with all the money you’ve been saving up since freshman year to your 4th salary, saying ‘you deserved it for all of your hard work’. even though nice cars are supposed to work, it decided to give you your 4th hardship of the day and didn’t start! how surprising. the pent up frustration from before got to the better of you, causing you to drop your head onto the steering wheel, leaving nothing but a aching red mark on your forehead. just the cherry on top.

instead of being a normal person, you decided to get mcdonald’s because you, unfortunately, are a child and won’t eat anything that isn’t fried, loaded with msg or unhealthy. you pull up to the drive thru window to pick up your food, and are greeted by a young face. “your total is $10.95″

you reach out to grab your food until he says, “and maybe i could get your number?” scoffing, you place the money in his hands and snatch your food from him. no man is going in between you and food.

being asked out like this wasn’t rare, it’s not like you were absolutely stunning, gorgeous, model material but you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. though in this case, you, are sore all over.

the automatic doors of the supermarket welcome you with a slight gush of wind. you grab a cart and get to shopping. ‘

should i get fruit? wow, look at me being healthy! i’ll get mangoes cus i don’t think i can digest anything else... OOO a sale! i need protein, i’ll just get beef. oh yeah, milk. do they have the bread i want-’

your thoughts were intruded by a sudden ping from your phone.

lovely mother: stop bullet pointing!! reply like a normal person

lovely mother: also her son is a very nice boy! i haven’t met him but i’ve seen pictures and he’s verryyyyy handsome!!

lovely mother: also emojis can be used by all ages.

your hands moved to the keyboard to reply to your mother but your forgot about the cart you were holding earlier- and the fact you did not see the 6ft tall human wall you were about to bump into.

“shit! i am so sorry, i didn’t see you there! i was busy replying to my mom, and i forgot i was holding a cart-”

your ears pick up laughter from the guy you just bumped into. you look up and see the VERY ATTRACTIVE HOT TALL GUY you made contact with and panic sets across your face. “it’s okay, it happens.” he laughs while picking up your things from the floor. y/n was not the type of person to be easy to please, but holy shit she folded fast.

maybe if you were actually paying attention and not busy staring at him, you would’ve noticed how he was holding out your cart to you, to take it. “here.”

“huh? oh! im sorry, for like the millionth time.” as if timed, your mother sends another message, making the attractive hot tall guy chuckle again. “your mother seems to be a very active person, i see.”

“she’s just pestering me about a blind date she wants me to go on- why am i even telling you this im so sorry.”

“it’s fine, it’s fine. i mean, if you want an excuse not to go, you could go on a date with me?”

you pause. ‘wait what? did hot guy just .... ask me out??’

“i..-uh” your incoherent response only makes him smile and chuckle more. they do say make your crush laugh to get them to like you back, right?

“you’re asking me?” you were genuinely bamboozled, surely someone as gorgeous as he is couldn’t possibly be asking you. it was literally 12:47pm on a friday and you look like you’ve just visited the grim reaper.

“why would i ask anyone else?” he hands his phone to you, signaling he wanted your number. you were unsure, but he was hot, so you gave it. he pressed call and surely enough your phone rang. he let out a satisfied hum and said,

“i’ll text you.” with that smile that you wanted permanently engraved into your brain.

you didn’t mean to be nosy, but you looked at his phone screen as he walked past you.

‘hottie from supermarket’

you laugh in disbelief.

[masterlist]

[next]

a/n: hi. i want to cry this is my first published fic and i hope u guys love it <33 special thank u to @tfmingyu YOUR WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT HELPED ME POST THIS 😭 ok happy reading weekly updates coming hehehehe

#kim mingyu #mingyu x y/n #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu fic #mingyu fic #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu x reader

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lovemesomesurveys · 10 months

Text

Do you own anything from Victoria's Secret "Pink" line? Do you really think the clothes are worth the price? Nope and no.

What does your last incoming text say, who was it from, and how do you feel about that person? It was my from my brother earlier letting me know he was going to pick up our lunch. He’s my lil bro, I love him. We’re super close.

Did you have a New Year's kiss? Nope. I’ve never had one.

Are there any words that you cannot pronounce or that you pronounce incorrectly? Probably, but I can’t think of one at the moment.

After a long day at work or of doing something physical what tends to hurt more? Your back or your feet? For me it’s my back because I don’t have feeling in my feet but also I have a fucked up back that causes chronic pain.

Do you have a smart phone? If so, what's your favorite app? Yes. I think all phones now are unless you get like one of those Cricket phones. Anyway, I use Kindle, TikTok, Facebook, and Spotify the most.

Who would you say is the overall best person you know, and why? Both my mom and my brother. I couldn’t do this thing called life without them, they are what keep me going.

If you had to choose between being a Nurse or an English teacher which would you choose and why? I used to want to be a teacher when I was a kid and English was always my favorite subject, so out of the two I’d say an English teacher. I definitely could not be a nurse, I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Do you have a specific gas station you usually go to? Or do you stop wherever? I don't drive.

How much older than you was the oldest person you have dated/had a relationship with? The guys I had a thing with were each a year younger than me.

Is anything stressing you out at the moment? Of course.

What is your opinion on dating someone who already had a child/children from a previous relationship? I honestly don’t want that, but at almost 34 years old I feel like if I went into the dating world it’d be hard to find a guy who doesn’t have children.

Have you ever actually found a mascara that makes a huge difference for your lashes? Yes.

Would you rather have one or two great facial features that stand out, or have just an overall pretty face but have no special features? I’d love to have nice eyes and a beautiful, pearly white smile.

Do you have any plans for Valentine's Day? Did you do anything last Valentine's Day? No, I didn’t do anything. I never do. I’ve never even had a Valentine, soo.

Do you check your horoscope daily? If so, did you relate to your horoscope at all today? I don’t check my horoscope or believe in that.

When you need to remember something, how do you usually go about doing so? I use the calendar, reminder, and notes apps a lot.

Do you think you're a confident person? In your opinion what makes someone "confident" anyways? No, definitely not. I have no confidence in myself.

How would you describe someone that is your type of guy/girl? It’s wild like I haven’t liked/had feelings for someone in like 7 years. :O I don’t remember what that feels like anymore or what I like anymore. I’m in a very different place than I was 7 years ago. A lot has changed about me.

Do you read books often? What is your all time favorite book and author? I used to, but I haven’t been reading very much these past few months and I don’t like it I need to change that. I really do love to read. I couldn’t possibly choose a favorite book or author, but I can tell you the few authors I’ve been obsessed with the past several years and have read several of their books and counting: AJ Rivers, Willow Rose, Mary Stone, and Elle Grey.

Have you recently accomplished anything that you are proud of yourself for? No. :/ I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything in a very long time. If ever? I suppose getting my BA in psych was an accomplishment, but that degree has sat collecting dust since 2015 and I still have no idea what I want to to do in life. I don’t want to pursue psychology anymore, so that’s great. I don’t feel like I’m cut out for anything. I don’t have anything I’m passionate about either. So yeah, even that I feel like is ultimately a failure.

Are you still friends with any of your exes? Do you still communicate with any of them at all? No.

What is your opinion on people that shop at Sephora for makeup as opposed to buying makeup from the drugstore? I really don’t care.

When you enter a store like Target or Walmart where is the first section you go? Usually at Target I just love strolling around the whole store and usually start In the clothes section. As for Walmart, I tend to head for the side with the soaps, shampoos, hair stuff, makeup, etc and then work my way to the grocery section.

Are you the type of person to fight for someone or walk away? I’ve ended up ruining a lot of good things cause I fucked up and didn’t try hard enough.

Is marijuana legal for "recreational use" where you live? Also what is your opinion on the recent legalization of marijuana in certain states? Yes it is and I’m in full support of it.

Do you live on your own or with your parents/a roommate? Do you think you'd like to live alone? I live with my parents and brother. I do not want to ever live alone.

How often would you say you use Microsoft Word? I couldn’t even tell you the last time I used that because when I was in college I was using Google Docs.

What is the last online purchase you made? I’m blanking, but I have a few things in various carts right now I want to get.

Do you usually have bad symptoms around "that time of the month"? I don’t have a “time of the month” anymore, but yeah I had the worst pms/pmdd. It was awful.

Is there anyone you have to see on a daily/weekly basis that you really dislike? No, thankfully.

Is your hair thick or thin? Would you say it's easy to manage? It’s really thin.

Have you ever had to deal with any type of long distance relationship, whether it be a romantic relationship or a friendship? I’ve had online friendships with people from other states and countries.

Are you procrastinating doing anything right now? No.

How do you feel about being called sweetie/dear/honey/etc.? I don’t mind. I don’t like babe or baby, though. I think having unique little nicknames for each other is cuter.

Have you ever had a thing for/relationship with a coworker? How did it end? No, I’ve never had a job, so therefore I never had coworkers.

What type of deodorant do you use? Do you notice any difference between powders and gels? I use Secret in the powder fresh scent. I’ve never used gels, so I don’t know.

What would you say is your worst habit? Picking: nails, lips, scabs, pimple, just anything.

Do you have a place you go to a lot that you may be considered "a regular" at? Yeah, but I’m not the one who’s actually going to get it. Like, I would be a regular at Taco Bell if I was the one went and got it cause I have it like 5 times a week. I guess I’m still a regular though since I get it... regularly? I’m a regular, they just don’t know it’s me lol.

Do you ever read the articles posted on the home page of Xanga? Has there ever been one that has really stood out to you? I don’t think I read those, but who knows the days of Xanga are a lifetime ago.

What is the weather currently like where you live? Um, hot as hell. Literally.

Is there anyone that you text on a regular basis that you do not have saved in your phone? If so, why don't you have their number saved? No.

Do you have any plans for Mardi Gras? I don’t celebrate it.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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kirby-the-gorb · 1 year

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reply roundup :)

on [grump] @angst-and-fajitas said: saaame it makes me so sad! I wanna see at least just a little snow but its so dry where i live

just a little! as a treat! please! it’s still winter it’s not too late!

on [2 grump 2 furious] @imkirb said: objectively these high temps suck cus global warming, but ngl i like the heat much more than cold so im kinda grateful fjgjgh

that is totally valid, living in a place where the weather is Not For You sucks regardless of what type of weather you prefer. (and really the unseasonable cold is also a symptom of climate change, the jet stream that tends to keep the cold arctic air to canada and the northern us is becoming more unstable and more able to wobble waaay down south compared to where it’s previously been, that’s likely what caused those massive ice storms at the end of december)

@ceylonsilvergirl added a [caption] to [shrug] that says “time to say FUCK IT!”

sometimes you really do just gotta say fuck it.

on [facedown] @passiveturmoil said: me after losing family scrabble

I’m very bad at scrabble, and anything involving anagrams etc. my brain sees the letters in one order and goes “I mean like that is probably a word” and just leaves them there.

on [ladybug] @hobgirl said: i have some very good memories of ladybugs, which are supposed to be good luck, showing up when i was incredibly sad. but some of those memories are tainted by the ladybug dying shortly after. still though. still

that’s very sweet :’) but even the ones that didn’t live long got to share a tiny bit of their little bug life with you and I think that’s still something to be happy about.

on [vision] @chaosinanutshell said: WAHAHHAHA monocular vision kirbo, he just like me, one braincell left gang frfr. hope ur day has been good! definitely cheered me up :>

thank you! I don’t remember if it was at the time or not. (today is okay though. our other partner gave us the info for their plane tickets for next month and after I finish catching up on the little things I’ve put off I get to play more lego game.)

on [:<] @gidguard said: blog content as advertised by the user name, love to see it

what can I say I value truth in advertising

on [isekai] @northeasternwind said: SLIDES IN WITH MY USELESS KNOWLEDGE the reason for the absurd titles is because most of these are published as novels first on a specific website..... which does not allow authors to write a summary, description or synopsis. so you literally have to choose what to read based on the cover art and the title alone. (sidenote, my favorite type of Isekai is otome Isekai, with the more specific subgenre of villainess Isekai, in which the main character is reincarnated as the villainess of an otome game and then proceeds to girlboss her way into happiness. Unfortunately, only a couple of them have the OG heroine actually be a decent person :c) also I'm sure we know this but Kirby and the Forgotten Land is of course an Isekai. 😂😂😂 oh this is not me trying to change your mind by the way I'm just infodumping in the replies because this post activated my brain oops. you may even know all this already 😂 apologie

lol you are totally fine, I love it when people are excited about stuff! I’ve seen a lot of villainess otome isekai being officially translated into english lately, so it’s good your favorite subgenre is so well fed right now (at least in the english-reading market), even if it’s still hard to find the ones that fit just the right niche.

katfl falls into the same isekai niche as a gentle noble’s vacation recommendation (at least as far as the first volume lol) in which neither the home world nor the otherworld are basically the real earth modern day. one could argue that katfl’s otherworld is still earth, I’m p sure many have, but as it’s a distant future earth it’s really not the same thing imo. (I do not personally like when one of the worlds involved is basically real earth modern day.)

on [goo] @hobgirl said: i know this is abt chronic illness, but summer also.

it can be about whatever makes you feel like you’re slowly dissolving into a pile of goo, that’s how art works -u-

on [goo] @northeasternwind said: /gathers you both up and sets you in a nice breathable supportive pillow fort :(

that sounds so nice ty ;n;

(and thank you to @ceylonsilvergirl, @opportunity-strikes, @macro-microcosm, and @0-jayless-0 for the well wishes on [sick], and my condolences to the person who reblogged it with “MOOD AGAIN” XD I may never be truly Well, but at least I am much less nauseous for now!)

on [lego] @ceylonsilvergirl said: this is a situation I’ve found myself in with my son multiple times. thank goodness they’re nontoxic

yeah good thing they tried to plan ahead for that. (this reminds me of that one post that’s like “what would you do if you had a box with a little bit of god in it? well that box is your body stop eating markers.” lol)

on [lego] @jeaniechibi said: i get the urge to eat them as well buddy with how shiny and yellow they are; but there's better actual cheese out there! so which lego games will you get? 👀 i loved lego star wars as a kid and lego H*rry Potter! (before i learned that JKR is. y'know. like that)

I used to bite them to pull stubborn pieces apart, like those little flat blocks.

my wife and I bought lego hp years ago and then stopped playing it when jkr decided to dump her whole public image in the toilet for good (and cuz the split screen in the second half was making me nauseous >n< ), cuz it really destroyed my wife’s relationship with the series. (personally I’m of the opinion that while it is genuinely important and valuable to be aware of a creator’s Terrible Opinions and not just sweep them under the rug because they made a thing you like, you’re not like, ethically required to publicly disavow the thing and burn every tie you ever had to it. I grew up with hp, and while as an adult it’s much easier for me to see how her assorted Terrible Opinions made their way into the series and that the whole thing is overall pretty mediocre at best, I still have a lot of affection for the time I spent with it and some fandom works and so on and I don’t think it actually helps anyone to throw that away or pretend it isn’t true. but then again I also grew up deeply enjoying orson scott card books while knowing (and hating) full well even at the time that he was homophobic, so maybe I just have more practice at letting my affection for a piece of art and my disdain for the artist coexist without either one swallowing up the other.)

so, anyway, we already had a copy of lego hp that was like half finished so I 100%ed that during the beginning portion of this month since not playing it doesn’t affect whether or not she got paid for it years ago, then a couple days ago I bought lego city undercover which I’m having a lot of fun with (although some of the humor there too has uhhhhh Aged Poorly we’ll say). I’ve played the versions of lego star wars and lego indiana jones that were on the ds and enjoyed them a lot but I have trouble playing handhelds now with my vision and joint issues, and my wife said we can get the new version of lego star wars to play together instead but she hasn’t quite gotten around to it yet lol. I think I’ll get the dc and marvel ones too, even though I don’t personally care much for superhero stuff, just cuz I really really like lego gameplay and they’re on a really really good sale. (and we’re in kind of a holding pattern until mid-march when we find out where my wife has to move for work next so. might as well do nothing but keep up with bare minimum chores and play lego games until then.) maybe even the lego movie 2 game, just cuz. more lego gameplay. they’re good for me to have on hand I think, especially when they’re 80% off XD

anonymous said: I legit just wanna thank you for being my favorite part of the day. Fr im experiencing artist rage and the kirby helps me relax so much

I am glad the gorb can bring you some peace -u- sometimes you just gotta look at a cute little guy and the things that you were angry about become a little more manageable! (not always. but sometimes!)

anonymous said: Kirby can just be there and my day will be brighten instantly.

best quality: the joy he brings

also I received a drawing in the askbox that I will hop to the top of the reblob queue :>

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tornrose24 · 10 months

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Was trying to think more about combining CU with Haunted Mansion and the big issue is who the ghosts would be. This is what I could come up with so far, but I’m open to suggestions.

-Ghost Host/ Creeply Rattlechains (remember that guy from the Halloween episode? He’s perfect for this and deserves more love.)

-Graveyard caretaker/ Jerry (Not a ghost, but the role seems to suit Jerry).

-The Mariner/ Cash Networth (I don’t recall seeing this ghost, but I think was more well known back in the day? It seems to fit Cash due to the boat connection)

-The Hitchhiking ghosts/ Meaner, Rected, Poopypants (This was a bit tricky to think of to be honest. I’m trying to think of physical match ups as well as who would be interesting to try to hitch a ride with someone)

-Madame Leota/….. ok this is a tough one given she’s the most iconic character. She’s either the big good or an antagonist depending on the material. Should I have someone good like Moxie or Dressy’s mom (who looks like she’d be the part?) Grace Wain who is NOT Erica in this case?

-Constance Hatchway/Ribble (there’s been a few brides, and I figure I’d have the evil bride be Ribble given how murderous she was on her own wedding).

-The duelists/Ree and Lavator (Backstory-Ree agreed to what he thought was going to be a duel with fake weapons. Lavator grabbed the wrong set. Ree’s not too happy about this. Also I can’t find any caretaker/butler ghosts for Ree)

-The organist/Hurd (I can’t think of a whole lot of other musical characters for this one.)

-The woman transforming into a cat/Yewh (something about it makes sense)

Now I am not sure what to do with the kids, but some seemed to work for the Stretching room. Particularly:

Tightrope Girl/Dressy (There’s a crocobat at the bottom instead of an alligator).

The three guys in the quicksand/Jessica, Sophie one, other Sophie (Take a guess who is stuck at the very bottom).

I’m not sure about the other two paintings, given the nature of the old woman painting and the dynamite guy painting (I was thinking of having Gooch be the dynamite guy because of his bad luck… but considering how dynamite guy is dressed, I feel like it’s almost a no brainer who the OTHER option could be).

And of course, the ones I already did:

-The hatbox ghost/Krupp (I did this because of the movie and finding out what the hatbox ghost’s last name was, plus the idea was amusing. Also according to HM lore, the hatbox ghost was supposed to be the beating heart bride’s groom so that is incorporated here. His death… well, a weight was certainly lifted off his shoulders).

-The beating heart bride/Melanie Ravenswood/ Edith (I initally had Edith be Melanie given that she was the nicer counterpart to our American brides, but then I found out about the Beating Heart Bride and her being the fiancee to the Hatbox Ghost and suddenly everything just worked out perfectly for me).

#if ANYONE has better suggestions i will gladly hear it #if anyone wants to use their ocs I also welcome them #captain underpants #the haunted mansion

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tokillamockingbird427 · 1 year

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Last night be and the besties did a fun enrichment activity I like to call Write Night cus I think it sounds nice. It's flash fiction or writing sprints? Not sure the name. Anyways. One of us gave prompts, then we all had ten minutes to speed-write before we had to stop and share out word count, as well as the tiny fic if we wanted to. We did three rounds, so 30 mins not counting the breaks between to share and get juice. The person with the most wordcount "Wins" the night, unfortunately, I placed second. The great @aceinthesol defeated me and placed first. (Bastard. /Aff.)

Here are the sprints.

I kid I kid. Here are the sprints+prompts lol. I bold the ones I used for the fic.

===Start===

Prompt: Cabin / Sage / Linger

Logan lingers a lot. Mostly following Hesh around, trailing him like a shadow. But he also thinks about people? And in that way he supposes he “lingers” on them too.

He’s reluctant to let go of the idea of people. Like his mom, still thinks about her, even after all these years she’s been gone. And he supposes that’s normal, given that she was his mother, a pretty important person. But by now he should be over the grief, right?

His thoughts still linger on the idea of her. What might she think of his outfit? Or this person he’s been talking to? What advice would she give him? And he can talk about these things with Dad, sure, but… it’s different. He doesn’t need a mom for these questions, but he wants his mom.

She lingers in his mind. And they talk.

“What about this shirt?” “Hmm. Pants are pretty patterned already… maybe go for a solid color.”

“So there’s this girl I've been talking to…” “Oh?” “Yeah. Uh, I haven’t made any moves though.” “Well why not?”

“Logan, honey, sometimes when things get rough, we have to hold onto the good things.” “I know.” “…I don’t think you understand me. Things that happen can be crafted into hope. I think. You remember it, and you know it can happen again.”

Yeah. Like that. But it’s just. Logan talking to himself. Not that he talks. He’s just… imagining she’s there. Like a really nice ghost. Warm, soft, and loving.

Not that he’d know what she’d look like now. Not that he can really remember outside photos. Not that he hasn’t heard a million times how their hair was the same color, their eyes the same shape, their laughs the same contagious bray…

So in that way, it’s mom lingering. Not Logan.

===+===

Prompt 2: Closing in / “I can’t walk… You’re gonna have to carry me.” / Gunpowder

He knows they’re closing in on him. Even without ever seeing them, he knows.

How does he know this?

Everyone else is gone.

He doesn’t know quite for sure if they’re dead but they’re gone. Anytime he calls for a check on comms there’s nothing but resounding silence in reply. Empty and cold, like the night air.

Could have known better. Should have known better. If the brass cared at all they would have been given some warning, but there was none.

Or there was… It’s just that none of them realized at the time.

These… legends don’t come with a warning. They don’t charge up front and come in blazing red-white-and-blue glory. Explosive and proud.

No, they’re subtler than that.

Honestly… until tonight? He believed them to be fables. But not anymore.

Who they are… shadows. Whispers. Boogeymen?

And he knows the nature of their creation more than he knows their methods.

A gestation of three days, planted when blood was spilled on the coarse desert sand. Sown by violent hands, nurtured by them further, the seed gorged on death.

Life spilling into a barren wasteland.

Ghosts.

===+===

Prompt 3: “Shouldn’t you be happy?” / Failure / “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” / Snowball fight

If there was one constant in his life, it was failure.

He tried okay. He tried really hard and it just NEVER worked out. It was one failure after another.

First day he joined elementary school, he was an outcast. No one wanted to talk to him, no one wanted to be friends, and he was left out. He failed to connect to any of them in the following years, and his attempts turned rather harshly on him: Instead of just being ignored, he’d be mocked and bullied. Not only the outcast but the annoying kid, somehow.

Then mom died. He wasn’t sure what the failure was there, but he felt it. It doesn’t matter how many times he was told there was nothing he could have done, he failed and it didn’t matter how hard Dad or his brother tried to reassure him.

That in itself was another failure, failure of belief. He trusted them but couldn’t believe them.

ODIN. Failure to protect his home, his family. Failure to keep them safe in the crisis that followed the disaster. Couldn’t find enough food, safe enough shelter, enough comfort.

Santa Monica, failure to uphold his oath. His vow to his country. They lost the beach.

Vegas. Failure to see Rorke's plot. Failure to protect his father. Failure to keep Riley safe.

The Final Assault… failure to keep the last of his family, his little brother, safe from the same man that killed his father.

David “Hesh” Walker is a failure.

#Katar Writes #you know I had to do it to 'em

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